Kudos to all the reviewers who gave their input on last chapter! Your comments were very helpful and appreciated!
Elwen of Lorien, Alenor Peredhel, Lady Anck-su-namun, Nelarun, Kiss and Trauma, PurpleCherrysodaPop, Lady Galriee, walkure13Brynhild, tyger cub, GreenWood Elf, lovenhope, Heather Allen, Ponytail Goddess, luvthefluf, Remember 1105, Elfinabottle, ladyiceangel, seyyada, and Lintered
Your thoughts on the Eragon fic were also appreciated, and if all goes well I hope to get it up within the next week.
---Chapter Twenty Six---
Haldir watched her as she turned away from him, her dress and great coat billowing behind her. He cursed his temper, for he knew it was his voice that had distressed her. He listened to the soft echoing of her steps as she ran away from him. From him. Moments ago she had been rushing to him. He sighed deeply and turned to seek out Bercalion. Bercalion would know of the other wardens' condition, and perhaps tell him a bit more about what had happened.
Tears blurred her vision, but never fell. She willed herself to remain calm, swallowing her emotions. Once Anira realized that wandering the halls of the Last Homely House would do no good, she asked a passing maid where her room was located.
"Down the hall to your left, the third door on the right. I believe it is next to the March warden's room," the maid had answered, all too cheerfully. Thanking the young elleth, she turned and started down the same hallway she had just come through. The sunlight and blithe sounds of nature from outside seemed to mock her.
Opening the intricately carved door, she stepped into the comfortable and satisfactory room. The windows and bed were draped with a dark blue linen, and similarly colored rugs lined the stone floor. She found the large bed to be quite soft and piled high with fluffy white pillows. A minute table with room for only one chair was in the center of the room, much like her quarters back in Lorien.
She threw off her heavy riding coat into the chair, it had begun to get stifling in the close quarters of Elrond's house, despite the impending arrival of winter. Wishing to feel soft coverlets and a firm mattress beneath her once more, she collapsed whole-heartedly onto the bed.
Her life had become a mess. She was angry at Haldir, angry at him for thinking she disobeyed on purpose. She was only trying to help!
Her eyes seemed too heavy to remain open. She closed them gratefully, descending into a deep sleep.
Bercalion's story was similar to Anira's, but Haldir had expected that. He too seemed upset with her, even more so than Haldir himself.
Sitting in the peaceful garden that branched off of the courtyard, Haldir thought of how he could mend his current situation. He would have to apologize, something he regrettably was not used to doing. Anira had acted out of kindness, that was one of the things he liked about her. She had a certain compassion for people that transcended the fear for her own safety.
Haldir did not want to think of what could have happened lest she had fallen to the ambush.
When Anira awoke, the sun was low in the sky. She looked over at the end of her bed where a cream colored gown lay at her feet. She supposed a maid had come in as she slept and laid it there. She also guessed that the evening meal would soon be served, judging by the people she heard congregating outside her door.
Dazedly, she pulled herself up off the bed and shed her dusty traveling clothes. She frowned, realizing that she would have to wait to bathe until the next day. A basin filled to the brim with clear water sat on a ledge by the mirror. She hastily scrubbed three days' worth of dirt and grime from her face and neck, before pulling out her long, golden hair and brushing it to a smooth sheen.
The dress fit her fairly well, sliding onto her body with ease. She admired the gold along the hem before painstakingly lacing up the back of the dress herself. Putting her hair into simple braids along the side of her head, as she always did, she cast one last look at herself. Anira sighed, knowing that this was the best she could do, and stepped out into the hallway outside her door.
Torches burned brightly in wall sconces, illuminating the clusters of elves gathered in the hallway and the elaborate tapestries hanging behind them. Indilwen and Ralanth stood hand in hand next to Pelardiel and Dinendal, conversing quietly. Pelardiel saw her as she closed the door, and gave her an encouraging smile before turning back to the conversation.
Anira's eyes scanned the crowds, berating herself for looking, but unable to stop herself. He wasn't to be found easily.
"Anira?" His voice startled her. It sounded relieved and meaningful. He was leaning against the wall behind her, probably waiting. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. He was dressed in his uniform of the Lorien Guard, a lengthy grey tunic over a black one, with black leggings. His silver hair was done up in the warrior braids of his people, something she had seen so often before. Yet, why did it seem so different and handsome this time?
He stepped towards her, an arm outstretched.
"Walk with me?" His silver eyes begged her, something she rarely saw him do. Reluctantly she accepted his hand, letting him lead her to a secluded path in the gardens surrounding their guest rooms. "The evening meal will not be served for an hour or so," he said, breaking the silence. She nodded mutely. They walked along the cobbled path slowly in the sun's last light, arm in arm.
"I wish to apologize for my words and for my actions earlier this day," he began. When she remained silent, he continued. "I realize now that you were only acting out of compassion. Anira," he stopped suddenly, facing her and cupping her face in his hands. "I admire you for this."
She stared at him, knowing that hours ago she had felt him insensitive and calloused. A silent tear ran down her cheek, and she buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent and wishing she could remain there in that garden with him forever.
"I guess that means I am forgiven?" He asked arrogantly, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head. He felt her nod in his embrace.
"We are not good at fighting are we?" She asked, voice muffled in his neck. He laughed, a deep and ringing sound that seemed to echo in the garden around them.
"No, I guess we are not," he replied. She pulled away from him, looking at him seriously.
"I believe I must apologize as well," she said. He began to protest, but she placed a finger on his lips to prevent him. "I must, for it was I who disobeyed orders. Though they were justified, I feel as though I must ask forgiveness also from you, and from Bercalion."
"He will be present tonight," Haldir said, absent-mindedly stroking her hair. He leaned in and kissed her, a soft brush of his lips that never failed to ignite her senses. She stiffened suddenly, pulling away from him and standing rigid with her head down. She coughed and jerked her head towards someone behind them, a red blush creeping up into her face.
"My Lord," Haldir said smoothly, bowing before Celeborn. He was too proud to allow himself to be embarrassed, if anyone, it should be Lord Celeborn for interrupting them.
"Haldir," he inclined his head gracefully. He bestowed a similar greeting to Anira. She bowed as well, excusing herself quickly. Haldir sent her a glance that told her he would meet up with her later. She scurried off down the path they had come by, her step lighter than it had been before.
Pelardiel anxiously glanced at the entrance to the dining hall. Anira had left with Haldir quite some time ago, how could it be that they were not yet back?
Dinendal looked down at her, his brow knitting in confusion. His wife had been acting strangely since her recent arrival. He passed it off as worry for their son, who was currently in the care of a nurse maid.
Anira finally made her way into the large hall, full of elves convened into groups and talking animatedly. Pelardiel dismissed herself from her husband's side, walking swiftly across the marble floor to Anira.
"There you are!" She pulled Anira to the side, away from where they could be heard. "Shall I talk to him? I feel partly responsible for all of this, you know..."
"No, no, it is not your fault Pelardiel. It has been resolved, most efficiently. I thank you for your concern," Anira reassured the elleth. She let out a relieved sigh, smiling happily.
"Farewell then, friend. Perhaps we shall speak later at the feast?" Anira nodded and watched as Pelardiel returned to Dinendal's arm.
Feeling very self-conscious all of a sudden, Anira smoothed the wrinkles in her dress and walked near one of the balconies, away from the elves. Unfortunately, this was also away from the heat. She shivered and clutched her arms about her, wishing now that she had brought a slight shawl with her.
"My lady?" Anira turned to see Tirithon looking at her quizzically. He walked out into the night air with her, leaning against the terrace rail next to her. "Tonight is not a night to be wandering about," he said, his tone suggesting danger and terror awaited her if she stood on strange balconies with strange ellyn, though she could sense humor in his feigned statement. She laughed at him, and he appeared hurt.
"I felt trapped in the hall, I merely wish for some fresh air," she answered. Her face fell as she noticed a heavy bandage wrapped about his forearm. "You are hurt."
"'Tis nothing, a mere scratch. I assure you, my lady, it hurt not one bit," he said gallantly, winking at her. She relaxed a bit, his presence seemed to calm her.
"And what would you two be up to?" Anira started at the smooth voice and was relieved to see Haldir again.
"Nothing, my Lord March warden," Tirithon answered. "Just a friendly conversation between two acquaintances." He bowed before Haldir and walked off.
Haldir joined her on the terrace railing, wrapping his arm about her waist and pulling her close.
"Jealous?" She asked, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"Never," he replied, his face unreadable. "You and Tirithon met on the journey?"
"Yes, he is quite pleasant to be around. Is there some reason why I should not speak with him?" She asked, her interest piqued.
"Tirithon has had a... reputation with the ellith of Lorien," Haldir said.
Anira frowned. "He was quite hospitable to me."
"He has a tendency to do that, but then again, he might have realized who he was talking to," he answered. "Come, we are being led into the hall."
Anira was seated next to Haldir, on his left side, with another warden she had been told was named Anyriand on her left. They were all sitting at a long table at the head of the hall, in front of several other long tables in front of them. Some elves wandered from table to table, still mingling and talking to one another.
The hall was huge, similarly decorated to the rest of Lord Elrond's house, with a marble floor and beautiful banners hung from the ceiling and draping the walls. The banners bore the crest of Imladris.
Wine was served, along with a plate of assorted meats and vegetables. Anira was grateful for the food after days of bland stew and tough bread.
"Quiet tonight, aren't you?" Haldir asked next to her. He was leaning back in his chair casually, observing her.
"I suppose so, why are you looking at me like that?"
"How am I looking at you, Anira?"
"Like you know something I do not," she said indignantly. But he wasn't listening. His eyes were now on Lord Elrond and a servant who was speaking to him worriedly. Lord Elrond rose and Lord Celeborn with him, turning around and beckoning Haldir to follow.
"Stay here, I shall return in a few moments," Haldir told her distantly, crossing the great hall quickly to trail behind the two lords.
"There is a rider here from Mirkwood. He carries a message from Thranduil," Elrond explained to them as they walked to the courtyard urgently. "Henduil informs me that the rider's condition is not well, and he refuses our help until the message is delivered safely."
They approached a group of elves grouped around a rider slumped down over his horse's neck. He looked up, his dull eyes half closed.
"My lords," he said softly, as though it pained him to speak. "I come bearing news from King Thranduil of Mirkwood." Suddenly, he appeared to have lost conciousness and fell from the horse completely, revealing two black shafted arrows impaled in his back.
This update is later than what I have posted on my profile. I am sorry, again, for the wait. Reviews are welcome and appreciated as always! Please give me your comments, suggestions, tips!
-ElfLuver13
