Author's Note: Hello and welcome to chapter six of "Wounded". I would like to thank everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter, Mystress of the Dark, MerryKK, Awen1923 and Nari-chan SND. Thank you all so much for commenting! As always, I do not have a beta and while I have proofread this chapter many times, I am sure I have not caught all the mistakes. Any errors that appear in canon, grammar or spelling are my fault and my fault alone. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Toklien's masterpiece.
Chapter Six Contemplating Failure
Aniror disliked begging. She hated it, in fact. Only once in her long life had she succumbed to such humility, such disgrace. And In the end, it had only led to much heartbreak.
Aniror sighed and tried to wrestle her thoughts back into order. It was a mild morning that brought her to sister's talan. Oft was the sky clear, a wispy blue that bathed in the warm sun. Yet then and now, clouds would pass by, grey with the threat of rain. Storm shadows glanced over Caras Galadhon.
She ignored her distress or wanted to. But soon the miserable chill of despair mingled with the heat of panic.
She had lost her place. She had lost her life.
Aniror did not possess the wit or bravery to argue with the Lady. Nor did she wish to further damage her precarious situation. Hope alone remained.
Without her rank as warden, Aniror could do nothing, mush less achieve the most-coveted position of Captain. There must exist a way to regain standing, she thought. There must be a rescue from utter shame.
And then she remembered Faeleth, her sister….and wife to the current Captain of the Galadhrim. Of course, they had had their quarrels and harbored mistrust, but blood could not be undone.
Faeleth had great influence over her husband and Haldir was most loved by the Lady and Lord.
Surely, her sister would take pity on her plight?
Aniror paused by the narrow staircase that climbed toward Faeleth's talan. Silence held the floor of the city and echoed in the trees. Aniror inhaled the heady scent of elanor and timber.
She must not fail
Faleth seemed to have expected her sister and her face looked tight with fear as she opened the door.
"Sister?" Aniror spoke first and moved forward. Her voice shook in a manner she hoped would induce pity.
"I know why you have come," Faeleth replied. She stepped back and allowed Aniror into the talan.
"But only I know my purpose." Aniror glanced around the main room of the dwelling. "Where is Pelilas?"
"With his young companions."
Faeleth shut the door and leaned upon it. She wore a green gown, Aniror noted, a color of remembrance to their family and one of mourning.
"I am shamed, Aniror," Faeleth said at once. Aniror felt herself recoil. She clenched her fingers into fists and stared. Deep anger met her gaze.
"For what I have done?"
"Yes." Faleth moved away from the door and perched herself by a pair of covered chairs. "Why have you done this?"
"I do not know."
"It was not a matter of love was it?"
"No." Aniror heard the disgust in her voice. Love for a Man? Never.
"Then why? Revenge?"
A shudder shook the very breath in Aniror's lungs. "What mean you?"
Tears darkened Faeleth's light eyes. "Erthor."
"Do not speak his name on this cursed occasion," Aniror said. The warning in her voice did not stop Faeleth.
"Ever you act foolishly, sister. I fear I can no longer stop you."
"Faeleth, I beg of you-
"I have offered my aid and you have refused it."
"I was ashamed too, sister. Can you not see that?"
"There is nothing I can now do-
"I have lost my place on the guard!" Aniror lunged forward and grabbed her sister by the hem of her sleeve. "Please. You must speak with Haldir."
Faeleth rested her hand on Aniror's for a moment, and then began to gently pry her fingers away.
"I cannot help you."
"You will abandon me?"
"I will not help you."
Aniror tore away and cursed. "And so much I have done for you!"
"Leave now. I have little more to say to you," Faeleth said. "And I fear my words shall fall upon stone and not implant a seed of goodness or sense in you."
Aniror did not move.
"Leave now, please." Faeleth's features twisted with sorrow. "Before you cause the both of us harm."
The door was opened and Aniror stared at the winding steps that sprouted from the threshold.
Her sister would not help her.
"Very well!" she spat and hurried to the door.
Rain fell, heavy at times and not at all gentle as Lorien was accustomed to. Aniror brushed the waters from her cheeks, but the sting remained. The very heavens seemed to curse her.
Did she deserve it?
Her thoughts rumbled and vied with the thunder. Did she deserve it?
No, what harm had she done? If the Gondorian was foolish enough to believe she loved him or even lusted after him, well the fault was his. She could not be held accountable for every misstep!
Aniror paused by a clearing that existed by the wall edging the city. Two fallen trees marked the place and an array of targets had been affixed to them. Guards often congregated there, both to improve their skills and receive orders.
It was the Captain's domain and whenever Haldir stayed in Caras Galadhon, he could be found there.
Aniror shielded her eyes and searched through the rain. Her sister, Faeleth, had refused to help her. It mattered little now, anyhow. She would go straight to the main road and avoid hastily contrived short cuts. Her sister possessed no intelligence, after all and she had not the skill to improve Aniror's situation. Few did.
A thin figure moved through the wave of rain. Aniror frowned. The Elf was not board and muscled like Haldir.
"Good afternoon!" The face of a young guard greeted her and she suppressed a scowl. The Elf was a cheerful fellow and she hated him for it. "I could never have expected to meet you, Warden Aniror," he continued and Aniror felt her frown deepen. "Word has it the Men of Gondor are your guests."
"Insolence and stupidity!" Aniror cried and the guard shrank back. "Does your mind carry a thought not given to you by others?"
"Warden…Warden," he stuttered.
"She is a warden no longer," another voice interrupted and the rain seemed to lessen. Haldir strode towards them, a longbow in hand.
The young guard looked from his commander to Aniror in confusion. Haldir nodded. "Go, now. I will speak with you later."
The guard obeyed and Aniror was soon left alone with the Captain. Anger was in his eyes and face and she shivered.
She must not fail.
"Why have you come?" he asked, expressing his keen ability for directness in the most treacherous situations.
Aniror cleared her throat. If he could be direct, so could she.
"I am in need of your help."
"And Faeleth would not give it to you?"
Rain hit his shoulders and slid down his back. Aniror fought the urge to flee. She loathed his imposing manner and the way he terrified even her with his wrath.
"This does not concern my sister," she said. "You are my Captain and I seek your aid."
Haldir leaned upon the longbow and shifted his weight. "The Lady has spoken with me, do not think that she dared to be lax in such a time. I was informed of everything…everything."
Aniror swallowed and her own rage overflowed. "I am sure she has! And had she not, you would have known. All is open knowledge to you, Haldir. Mind you not your own business, when you can occupy yourself with the troubles of others!"
"I do not fear your fury," he said and she thought she saw a smile upon his lips. 'Nor does Faeleth. I for one, am happy to have you removed for the guard. Too long did you search where your eyes should not have gazed."
"I wished to be captain!" Aniror cried. Her voice struck the trees and thundered back.
"And you would have."
Did he dare taunt her? Aniror could not decide.
"Had it not been for several occasions of sincere folly."
"Haldir, enough!" she tried to protest, but his smile widened.
"Trapping twelve guards against the Nimrodel with Orcs at our heels."
"I remember well-
"Pursuing a party of goblins with no reinforcements."
"Do not torment me!"
"Chasing after an Elf who never loved you from the first."
"Stop!" She wanted to hit him, to knock him from his feet and leave him lying in the mud. But Haldir stood strong, as always, undaunted.
"And now this poor Man of Gondor," he said and slung his bow over his shoulders. "Go to him if you seek help. I can offer you none."
He left and she did not follow him. The rain was steady, but softer now. She leaned against the trunk of a tree and felt the cool water seep past her collar and kiss her flesh.
What to do?
And then she thought of Haldir's last words. Never did he speak without wisdom, even in jest.
Aniror straightened and smiled. Perhaps she would put his advice to good use.
Aniror stood before the door, her hand raised and ready to knock. But then she began to tremble. At once she backed away and dropped her hand to her side, fisting her fingers in the soft fabric of her leggings.
Silence dwelled in the halls of the Lady's talan and Aniror felt like a thief with a shadowed purpose. Why had she come here?
For help, her thoughts whispered. But what help could she hope to find?
The son of the Steward. The son of the Steward of Gondor. He had great influence, great sway and a host of men under his command. Certainly if his heart softened towards her again, he would aid her.
But perhaps his heart was hardened by her rejection. Men seemed like fickle beasts. She would be counted as a fool once more if she failed.
She must not fail.
The thought of promotion and a triumphant return to her life as a guard emboldened Aniror. She would watch as Haldir and even her wretched sister begged for her blessing, her protection. And those that had once laughed would weep, mockery turned to reverence.
She must not fail.
The man could easily be cast off once she had finished with him. After all, he would only do her good for a short while.
Aniror smiled and knocked on the door. Footsteps mumbled within the chamber. The door knob turned slowly.
A man opened the door, not the one she was after. He was tall with a noble bearing and grace in his eyes. Had she seen him before?
Aniror smiled brightly. "Good eve, my lord. Is…" she paused and a barrage of curses filled her mind. She could not remember the foolish man's name!
"My lord, is…" Aniror tried again but failed. The man stared at her and she felt his suspicion. It echoed off him in cold waves and an angry mist curled in his eyes.
"Do you wish to speak with my brother, Captain Faramir?" he asked and Aniror could have wept with relief.
Faramir! Yes, that was his name.
"Yes, my lord. I do." She watched him for a moment, smiling with her lips but scowling with her gaze. The man held the door open.
"Come inside."
She must not fail.
Author's Note: No long-winded notes this time. Thanks so much for reading! Please, review and share your thought with me.