A/N: hides behind computer desk Sorry for not updating for so long! Let me tell you, it has been a CrAzY couple of weeks! All last week, I was in Illinois, so I couldn't update. But now I'm back in Houston and ready to go! Please review! To make up for the wait I added a longer chapter with plenty of Haldir! If you don't review I will go and set your house ABLAZE! Mwhahaha!
Disclaimer: Same as always, I don't own it, so please for all that is cheesy and good do not sue me! Any characters you don't recognize from Tolkien's world are MINE! Mine mine mine! Hahahahaha!
Now, without further ado:
A Stolen Love
By: Blade Eclipse
Chapter 3- A Meeting Ensues
Torrents of rain cascaded down the elfin cloak, making the Marchwarden seem like a living waterfall. The beaten trail sank under the hooves of Astaldo and the other steeds, making any progress that the company made very slow indeed. Trees littered the trail, each one begging for a sun that ceased to show itself under the merciless downpour. What ill fortune the elves of Lorien faced! If the weather chose to continue down this muddy path, getting to Gondor would be all but impossible, even for the eldar.
Haldir, to say the least, was not happy.
While true that the race of elves were not as susceptible to the cold and other elements as humans, that did not deter from the fact that rain made everything uncomfortable. Light clanging noises could be heard as droplets of liquid found a place on exposed armor and weapons. Not a word was spoken, the elves instead opting for silent meditation. The horses snorted every now and then, trying to snatch their owners' attention, but to no avail.
When the company finally had to stop, it was near midnight. The moon made its presence known, shining down from in between storm clouds. The soldiers dismounted their steeds, setting them free to graze. Haldir instructed Trian and Quesse, two able bodied warriors, to make a fire. The two retrieved the proper supplies and set about their task.
"Haldir, do you think it wise to make a fire, with all types of orcs and unfriendly creatures roaming the night?" questioned Ambar, the second in command. He looked about himself, as if sensing some sort of invisible danger.
The Marchwarden laughed outright at this question and turned toward his companion. Ambar was a loyal and respectable friend, if a little paranoid at times. While Haldir put on a haughty exterior, he would never jeopardize the lives of his companions, he was Marchwarden, after all.
"Ambar, we will be fine. I have already dispatched scouts, you need not worry so much, my friend," stated Haldir, trying to qualm Ambar's fears.
"Oh, alright Captain, sorry to have doubted you, with all your superior wisdom and intellect," Ambar said with a smile plastered to his face. Who said elves had to be so serious all the time?
Haldir merely smirked and shook his head. Glancing about the encampment, he took a mental inventory of supplies. They had more than enough to get to Gondor and back, but the horses would need rest throughout the trip. With any luck, and Varda willing, they would reach Minas Tirith within the next two days.
The elves gathered around the fire, each trying to cook their food and striving to become more comfortable. Intriguing were the flames that sputtered to life in front of Haldir. Fire could be seen as a catharsis in many ways, a cleansing entity of sorts. Amazing, how people only place it in a category of destruction. The power of flames were ethereal. Not many things on Middle Earth had the power to destroy and at the same time make new life, but fire unmistakably, could. Haldir had been witness to this numerous times.
Back before he was even thinking about applying for the regal position of Marchwarden, Haldir was a mere soldier, and nothing more. And he was content with his place, strangely. He didn't have to make any judgment calls or major decisions. That was left up to the Captain, Kemen, whom Haldir had respected all of his life. His company would set about on journeys all across the land, exploring the other elven realms and even human ones too.
Haldir's eyes narrowed in anger as he stared into the captivating flames. He did not like to think of the olden days, especially where filthy humans were involved.
In those days, humans were constantly fighting against each other, and they were merciless. Fields that were vital to producing food for the population were burned to ashes, leaving no trace of anything remotely edible. Humans literally starved to death in times of war. The thought made Haldir sick to his stomach. Villages were pillaged and set ablaze, sometimes with people still inside them. As visiting elves in an alien country, Haldir's company had strict orders not to intervene with the battles between neighboring villages. So they sat there, almost glowing atop their magnificent horses, watching as the human race died around them. So much fire. So much screaming.
But, out of the ruins, rose new life. The fields could be cultivated, the ashes making the soil rich and plentiful again. The towns people banded together, rebuilding their homes and remembering what happened, vowing to never act so foolishly as to start a war again. It took the deaths of children, husbands, wives, to make them realize their mistakes, but still too late.
Fire had breathed new life and vigor into the race of man, and they had willingly taken this gift.
Haldir was slowly pulled from his reverie. The flames in the camp started to flicker into submission, now only emitting a faint glow. The Marchwarden sighed to himself, showing no trace of emotion on his angelic features.
The other elves prepared their sleeping mats and tried to find the path of dreams. Haldir stood, stationary, as if made out of marble, until the fire turned to the darkness that had captured the rest of the surroundings. He willed himself to sleep that night, hoping for no dreams, for accompanying them would most defiantly be nightmares. Nightmares, he realized, he was scared of.
Eyes wide, Haldir breathed deeply.
The Marchwarden, the fearless, war-trained soldier, was actually frightened of something.
The Forest Thieves were getting anxious. Nervousness filled the unspoken void instead of premature fear, which was, in all accounts, a good thing. No need to become panicky before anything gets started.
Ariel traveled among the women, hoping to calm some down. Whispers traveled throughout the camp, seeping into every crack and draining every sapling dry.
The elves would be here soon.
In preparation of their arrival, Ariel decided to make the company "nomads," of sorts. They would choose a different enclosure to camp at every other day. Scouts would be on patrol for six-hour intervals at a time, ensuring the safety of the women. The forest was enormous, but not as much as the Queen of Thieves would have liked it to be.
Ariel's few contacts inside the city had agreed to take in the company of ladies if need be, provided they pay a hefty sum and only stay for a few days at a time. Nothing in this world came without a price.
So, plans and backup plans in order, the group started loading up their homes, most likely for the last time.
Suddenly, Ariel's voice pervaded through the trees, strong and determined. She, in no instance, had the most heavenly voice, but something about it made people just want to quiet and listen. It was commanding and endearing, just as Ariel was at times, though she was loathe to admit the endearing part. She sang of home and remembrance, of death and destruction, of love and humanity. The tune was a familiar one, sung by the farmers of Gondor who needed a release from their hardships.
Soon, the whole company was singing with their leader, voices united in imperfect harmony.
When the song ended, a cautious silence entered the wood, and nobody dared break it. Noiselessly, the women moved as one, mounting their horses and glancing back at the home that would never be theirs to claim again. And with a hand signal from Ariel, the steeds trotted off into the ever- darkening forest.
The weather had substantially cleared up and the path was able to be traveled upon. Before long, the elves had reached the gates of Minas Tirith. After confirming their identities with the watch guards, the company was allowed free passage to see Denethor.
Haldir advised his soldiers to pull up their hoods, for humans could become easily fixated on the race of the eldar. They led their horses up the white stone steps, receiving looks from passing citizens.
The homes at the lower end of the city were in a state of somewhat chaotic disarray. Houses were chipped and weather beaten from the seasons. People pushed and groped their way into every crevice imaginable inside the city, hoping to find some semblance of a rest area and a reprieve from everyday life.
Haldir looked away, disgusted. He did not wish to witness this. Why did the Lady send him on such a ridiculous mission?
Finally, they reached their destination. Haldir was escorted to Denethor while his companions tended to the horses.
A guard led the Marchwarden to a massive room that housed the thrones of the White City. Below them was a marginally smaller one, and unlike the others, this one was occupied.
"Greetings, Haldir o' Lorien. Welcome to this fair city, and I hope I find you in good spirits," said Denethor, smiling with his crooked, rusted yellow teeth.
Haldir inclined his head, and spoke slowly. "The city of Lothlorien thanks you, Steward of Gondor, and the Lord and Lady send their greetings and best wishes. They also look forward to a completed alliance with Minas Tirith."
Denethor smirked, an action that made Haldir want to squeeze his neck until it cracked, but he kept his feelings to himself.
"Ah yes, the treaty, I trust you brought it," said Denethor.
"Yes, my Lord." Haldir retrieved the document from its water-proof seal, handing it off to the Steward.
"Well, everything seems to be in order here. Tobiath! Bring me a pen!" commanded Denethor.
It was then that Haldir noticed a servant standing off to the sides, the same messenger that had traveled to Lothlorien and propositioned this whole event.
Tobiath walked quickly to the Steward's side, holding out a feathered writing utensil. Denethor snatched it from Tobiath's grasp and signed the alliance treaty.
"I will give you this upon your return. Kill all the thieves and scoundrels you want, it is the leader of these bandits that I crave for. Bring her to me alive. She will be judged for her crimes. For too long has she slipped through my fingers," snarled Denethor.
Haldir became a little startled to learn that the leader of these thieves was a woman. He would contemplate over this issue later.
Denethor produced a map of Gondor and quickly briefed Haldir of the situation and where the bandits were last spotted. The Marchwarden memorized the map and took his leave, ready to leave Minas Tirith as soon as possible.
Haldir found his company waiting to go, trying to avoid the stares of strangers. They mounted their steeds and set off for the forest, following the Marchwarden's lead. They would reach the desired location within the hour.
The Forest Thieves of Gondor were taking a well deserved rest. Ariel sent four scouts into the depths of the trees, hoping that there wouldn't be a need for them. To pass the time and to make their hearts lighter, a few ladies danced in the shallow end of the pond where they had stopped, dancing to a nameless melody. Dialan was among them.
Ariel couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from quirking up. Dialan was always trying to make people happy, no matter what the cause.
The performance continued, and more joined in, careful not to make noise, lest they lead the enemy strait to their rest area.
The cool liquid swirled around their feet, keeping in time with the soundless rhythm. Ariel smiled along with the group, trying not to show her feelings. A growing knot of worry had invaded her stomach and refused to leave. This had only happened on one occasion before, and the outcome had resulted in exile.
The company of elves had searched the area three times over and were convinced that the thieves had left. Footprints and horse prints littered the ground. Evidence was shown that the bandits tried to cover them, but did a faulty job. The tracks were recent and would be easy to follow. Haldir could almost smell them.
They were close.
The horses were drinking their fill from the pond when Ariel received the news. Kayla, a scout, had delivered the message, warning that the elves were near, almost half a mile away, and closing in.
The others were in an uproar. Never before had they been put into a position such as this. Ariel raised her hand for silence, and the others followed suit.
"I have any idea. Each of you, get out your best dress and put it on and straiten it. Make yourself look presentable and put your hair up. We must hurry, quickness is the key!" Ariel hurriedly whispered.
Long ago, it had been decided that each woman would keep at least one dress to their name, incase a retreat to the city was ever needed.
Suddenly, all the women were scurrying to their packs, tearing open pockets and such. In five minutes flat, every lady was rapped in a flowing dress. Ariel didn't look like herself in an off the shoulder pale blue linen gown, it didn't suit her at the very least. Her golden-tanned body clashed with color. But, it would suffice.
"Run now! Put the gold and weapons in the packs! Nothing must be seen!" Ariel fiercely whispered. The group did as they were told and looked nervously at their leader.
"When they come, make idle chat and pretend we were all here for an extended picnic and nature expedition. I will do most of the talking, but just incase they speak directly to you, answer politely and be courteous ladies!"
They all nodded in agreement and started talking complete nonsense to each other.
Soon, the group of elves emerged from the foliage. The group of women gasped as one.
What a heavenly sight to behold! Blond hair cascaded down a face that was almost ethereal in appearance. Sinewy muscles stretched at every agile movement these creatures made. Simply put: the thieves had their breath stolen away.
At first, the two companies merely stared at one another, and then the silence was broken by what Ariel suspected was their leader. He had more of an arrogant air about him.
"I am Haldir, marchwarden of Lothlorien. Excuse our intrusion ladies, but we are in the process of searching for a band of forest thieves and their path seems to have collided with yours," said Haldir, glimpsing each of their faces.
Ariel's features formed into a frightened expression. "What do you mean thieves? We are in danger?!" She made her eyes take on a panicked appearance and frantically looked around.
Haldir tried to calm her down. "Do not be scared, dear lady! We are merely trying to find them, I assure you that no danger will befall your beautiful faces." At this, Haldir glanced around and winked at the group of women, who giggled in return for good measure.
"You flatter us, my Lord," said Ariel, hoping against hope that the thieves would make it through this test.
"Hardly," answered Haldir. But then, something queer happened to the Marchwarden. His mind went back to the conversation with Denethor. He remembered that the supposed "leader" of the Forest Thieves was in fact, a woman. "Surely the whole group could not be composed of women!" he thought, keeping a façade of pleasantness on the exterior, while inside his mind was churning.
"I wonder though, what are a group of refined ladies such as yourselves doing here in the middle of the forest?" questioned Haldir.
Tiera found her voice, miraculously. "We were having a picnic and chatting. Later we were planning on doing some nature drawings," she answered, if a little hesitantly.
Haldir quirked an eyebrow, he wasn't so sure of this story. He looked about the area. No food was present and he could see no canvas or coal used for drawing. Although, to the women's credit, the supplies could have been in their packs.
"We shall escort you back to Minas Tirith. The forest is not safe at this point. I fear for your safety," Haldir said, trying to take on a concerned expression, which was hard, considering he spent his whole career trying to be like ice melted onto stone.
A few of the women gasped and Ariel spoke a little too loud to be considered nonchalant.
"No, no, dear marchwarden. We are quite capable of getting there on our own, thank you graciously for your offer though," said Ariel, painting on a fake smile of reassurance.
Haldir's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. Who refuses an offer from an elf, and the very marchwarden of Lothlorien to be exact! This was getting more questionable by the minute.
"I insist, my Lady. We will take you safely there and make sure you are in the strong arms of the city before leaving. This forest is dangerous," said Haldir, ready to gauge her reaction.
Ariel was about to deny his request again when Laurelin, shyest of the bunch, spoke aloud.
"We would be honored if such soldiers would accompany us to the city," she stated wide eyed, as if surprised by her own boldness.
"All right, it's settled then," said Haldir, perhaps a little too cheerfully. He would get to the bottom of this.
Ariel was openly glaring at the Marchwarden. It was only when he stared back that she caught herself, in turn blushing a deep shade of crimson.
The women traveled to their horses, leading them over by the elven steeds.
Haldir looked at the Queen of Thieves, not knowing her true identity. "My Lady, you know my name, but my ears have not had the pleasure to hears yours," said Haldir, almost feeling sick. The Marchwarden hated putting on happy exteriors, it made his face ache with tension.
Ariel put on a false smile. "I am known as Taliwen, from the house of Ditrael." A few of the thieves gave her odd looks, but the others were smart enough to know not to give these strangers their real names.
"Well then, Lady Taliwen, a star shines upon the hour of our meeting," he said, offering his hand to help Ariel mount her horse.
Begrudgingly, Ariel took the proffered hand and before she knew it her stallion, Bow, was neighing underneath her. She caught a glimpse of a jewel- studded dagger attached to Haldir's waist. The metal glittered in the afternoon sun. It was marvelous. Perfectly crafted in every way. Ariel snapped out of her observation enough to say, "thank you, Marchwarden."
Haldir smiled falsely in return. "Please, call me Haldir, my Lady." Ariel nodded her head and kicked Bow to a slow trot. "Great," thought Haldir. "Just when I thought being with humans couldn't get any worse, now I have to baby sit them!" He was grateful that his company of elves had chosen to stay silent. They knew how to follow orders. They filed in with their horses behind the women, watching them, calculating.
Towards the front, Ariel found herself positioned next to Laurelin.
"How could you agree to such a thing Lin?!" she angrily whispered. Laurelin, the poor girl, looked like a deer who knew it was about to be shot. Tiera pulled up next to them.
"Don't be foolish Ariel! Oh, I mean Taliwen. There was no way around this. If she hadn't agreed, they would have suspected something! Be smart about this my Queen!" Tiera spoke in a low, harsh whisper. "Now be quiet, elves have extremely good hearing, remember?"
Ariel closed her mouth and huffed in silence.
Soon, the gates of Minas Tirith blazed in the sunlight. Such a sight was magnificent to behold, but deadly to enter.
Dialan pulled up beside Ariel.
"My Lady, we cannot enter. Maybe if we had the cover of night to shield us, it could be plausible, but in broad daylight? We will surely be killed!" she said lowly.
Ariel simply winked in answer, smiling a little.
"That's not a good sign," remarked Rarill, who was riding in the back of the group. The others nodded in acquiesce. Ambar noticed this and looked to Haldir, whose face was a mask of stone. The Marchwarden acknowledged his second in command, nodding a little and silently translating that he picked up on this too.
"If I may ask, my Lady, what exactly is not a good sign?" questioned Ambar, looking from one woman to the other.
Rarill froze momentarily before answering. "Uh, the-the cattle are laying down!" She pointed to an open field where a farm was located outside of the city. "That almost surely means that rain is coming upon us!"
The elves almost laughed outright. How ridiculous!
All twenty women breathed a quiet sigh of relief, happy that Rarill had found a good cover-up, or so they thought. Mayhap they would get out of this alive, if they played their cards right.
But too soon, all of their hopes were dashed. An entire company of soldiers from Minas Tirith was standing outside of the gates, waiting to leave for various missions. The thieves looked at each soldier as if each one was a rope that they would soon be hanging from.
Ariel tried to keep her cool.
When the path became substantially wider, Haldir and his company spurred their hoses on ahead until they were even with Ariel. She was visibly sweating by now. Haldir internally smirked. Something was up with these women, and he knew it had to do with the Forest Thieves.
The women looked around nervously, almost panting.
They reached the Minas Tirith soldiers, and almost fainted from the enormity of their predicament.
"We shall escort you inside the city," Haldir spoke.
Ariel dangerously narrowed her eyes. "I do not think that will be necessary Marchwarden." Strangely, after saying this she smiled. An evil, corrosive one that dug into every nerve Haldir possessed. He looked at her questioningly.
In response, she shouted at the top of her lungs. "Help! These elves are trying to rape us poor women! They captured us in the plains of Rohan and wish to return us to Minas Tirith for ransom money! Please help!" She was screaming by now. "Help please!"
"Lady Taliwen, I have no idea what-," Haldir was abruptly cut off as a soldier of the White City pulled him off his horse. The others soldiers followed suit and presently all the elves were locked in fights, trying not to hurt the humans for fear of breaking the alliance.
Ariel turned her horse around, the other women doing the same, and she commanded them to gallop as fast as they could into the forest. The Queen Of Thieves stayed behind a minute, until she caught the Marchwarden's eye. With a sickly sweet smile, she help up his jewel encrusted dagger, the one that had glinted so much in the sunlight earlier that day, then momentarily, she sped away on Bow, looking back only to see the pure emotion of anger that radiated from the Marchwarden.
Ariel smiled to herself. They didn't call her the Queen Of Thieves for nothing!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-END OF CHAPTER
You guys, my brain has just been going off with ideas for this story, and make no mistake there will be lots of romance and even more twists and turns! Secrets! Hahaha! I have some amazing ideas for this, so keep reading!
Questions you might ask yourself until I update next:
--What was Ariel exiled for?
--Why does Haldir now hate humans so much?
--How exactly did Ariel become the Queen of Thieves?
--How did Ariel's horse (pronounced Boe), get its name?
--Does the dagger have any kind of sentimental value?
0.o questions questions! Please review, they are my blood now! No review, no story! Hehehe, yes, I AM evil...! Mwhahahaha....?
--Blade