Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter 1
Chapter 4: An Instinct to Roam
The next five days were tense for Silraen. Halnorel slept in Silraen's bed every night, terrified of being alone. Sometimes, even in the daytime, the child would start to shake, tears filling her eyes as they stared, damp and unblinking, at nothing. If Silraen asked her what she saw, she would whisper that she couldn't remember and then cling to Silraen like she had not done in years. Silraen would hold her and wish Haldir were there.
Now, on the fifth day since Haldir had left, Silraen sat on her knees in the soil of a vegetable garden, watching fondly as Halnorel planted watermelon seeds. Silraen had taken her to the fields the past few days, loathe to let her baby out of her sight when she was dealing with these disturbing visions. You are more help than you know, I think. Galadriel's words came unbidden to Silraen's mind and she smiled sadly. She hoped that it was true, but so far, she could do little more than distract the child, keep her at play or work so she had little time to drift.
Silraen stroked Halnorel's blond head, "Very good. Won't it be nice to have watermelons in a few months?"
Halnorel nodded, scooting over to the next mound of dirt and poking watermelon seeds into it. She covered them over with great care, her small hands patting the soil gently, as if she feared she would hurt it. Silraen smiled again and tears welled in her eyes for a moment. But, then she heard a familiar voice.
"Silraen! You work too hard, it's after sundown. It will be getting dark soon."
Silraen jumped up, bounding over freshly planted rows of radish seeds to throw herself into Haldir's arms.
He chuckled, swinging her around, his strong arms locked across her back. His low voice reached her ear, "Isn't this display a little too 'Rumil and Linaya' for the two of us?"
"Maybe we can learn something from them," she replied.
"Mmmm. . .Maybe we can," Haldir caught her lips with his, setting her down so he could frame her face with his large hands. Silraen moaned softly, tipping her head to the side and deepening the kiss.
"Daddy, get off of her, that's disgusting."
Haldir laughed against Silraen's mouth, reluctantly breaking away. "Always the critic," he mumbled, reaching down to lift Halnorel into his arms. As he held her close, he mouthed over her shoulder to Silraen, "How is she?"
Silraen just shook her head, struggling to keep the concern out of her eyes, but knowing she failed. Haldir sighed, turning his head to kiss Halnorel's hair. As he set the child down, he said, "Silraen, I escorted a rather strange group of travelers to the city just now. There is one among them that might interest you. A certain Prince of Mirkwood."
"Legolas is here?" Silraen asked, her eyes widening in excitement.
"He surely is," Haldir said with a small smile, "He is speaking with the Lord and Lady at the moment, but when they finish I'm sure he'll want to see you."
Silraen was beaming, and hurried them both along to the city. She hadn't seen Legolas in years. He served alongside her brother, Belegant, in Thranduil's army. The two elves were of comparable age and had been close in their youth. When Belegant returned to civilization after Father's death, they had resumed their friendship, helping each other through the pressure and sacrifices of a soldier. The two elves struck a healthy balance, with Belegant always steady, reliable, and Legolas more mischievous and spontaneous.
When Silraen's light steps brought her to the glade beneath the city, she saw him immediately. He stood at the center of a somber party, and they were a strange bunch indeed. Elf, human, halfling, even dwarf, all brought together in grief for a fallen comrade.
Some of the grimness dropped from Legolas's features as he saw Silraen. He ran to her with a laugh and swung her off the ground, much as Haldir had done only minutes before. Haldir watched with narrowed eyes, plastering a nearly convincing smile on his face and resisting the urge to tear the Prince away from his wife. Legolas was harmless, an old friend to Silraen, but his appeal to females was legendary and the slight flush coloring Silraen's cheeks made Haldir bristle.
"Haldir," Legolas called, his eyes glowing with mirth, "Mirkwood has not been the same since you stole away our most beautiful flower."
Silraen's flush deepened to a flaming red and she batted at Legolas's arm. "Don't make fun, you foolish elf," she said.
"I do not jest, Silraen. You look wonderful." A brotherly fondness filled his face as he hugged Silraen again. His gaze turned to Halnorel.
"And who is this stunning maiden? Surely the trees themselves bow when you pass, so I shall as well." He bent low before Halnorel, catching Silraen's eye with a playful grin as he did. Halnorel, who had been staring rather intently at one of the halflings, giggled, hiding her face behind her hand as the gallant prince bowed to her. Haldir bit back a groan. First his wife, now his daughter had been reduced to mush by the charming elf. It was as if he hypnotized them. Haldir's eyes narrowed further as he wondered what evil witchcraft gave Legolas such power over females.
Haldir was broken from his brooding speculations as he realized Legolas was speaking to Silraen, ". . .a baby. Your brother told me you bore a third child and he has not yet seen her. May I?"
Silraen nodded, speaking excitedly to the wood elf and leading him to the stairs. Legolas had Halnorel by the hand and not one of the three even bothered to see if Haldir followed them. With a scowl, he did.
After a quick introduction to Miradhel and Taurnan, Legolas was escorted into the back bedroom of Miradhel's flet, where Danuriel was napping. A look of tender adoration filled Legolas's face as he saw her, "Oh, Silraen," he whispered, "She's so beautiful."
"She takes after her father, thank the Valar," Silraen smirked.
Haldir was leaning in the doorway, his thick arms crossed over his chest, and he smiled back, shaking his head.
As Legolas lifted her in his arms with reverence, he murmured, "When I return to the forest and your brother asks about his new niece, I fear words will not do her justice. I will have to tell him to come see her for himself."
The sky blue of Danuriel's eyes soon appeared from beneath her sleepy eyelids. She gazed up at Legolas in serene silence. Haldir nearly threw up his hands, seeing that even his youngest was stricken by the wood elf's spell.
But, as Danuriel woke fully, her eyes latched onto the pale blond braid that fell across Legolas's cheek and near her hands. She grabbed it in her fist and gave a sharp tug, drawing a small cry from Legolas.
That's my girl, Haldir thought with a smug grin. But, he'd had enough of watching women swoon over Legolas. Even his mother had batted her eyelashes at him! He knew he was being childish and pouty, but there was only so much an elf could take. Haldir left to go sharpen something.
* * *
The next day, Silraen was hauling water to the fields, dragging bucket after bucket from the small canal to the newly seeded field. The morning was quiet and cool. The children were spending the day with their father, the entire day, and she was relieved that he was getting this time with them. There were weeks she feared they forgot what he looked like. She knew sometimes she nearly did.
Silraen was crossing the field, a bucket in each hand, moving carefully between the rows when she spotted a figure on the hill, watching her in silence. She carefully spread water over the row, then set the buckets aside. The halfling looked almost afraid as she neared him, wiping her hands on her skirt. Silraen gave him her most winning smile and watched his tense shoulders relax.
"Hello, friend. I am Silraen."
The halfling bowed his head, a few light brown curls dropping over his forehead. "Begging your pardon, Miss Silraen. I didn't mean to distract you from your work. It's just—I just—" he scrunched up his face, trying to find the words, "I never pictured elves working in fields or gardens."
Silraen's smile widened, "How did you think we got our food? Magic?"
"Well," he said sheepishly, "Yes."
Silraen laughed lightly, "What is your name, little friend?"
"Samwise Gamgee, Ma'am."
"Well, Samwise Gamgee, I am afraid we must get our food through time and sweat like everyone else. We elves are not really that different than halflings or any other people. Most elves just don't want others to know that."
At Sam's perplexed frown she stopped. Maybe it was best to leave some people their illusions. She said, "You know, I am due for a break. Would you like me to show you around the orchards and fields?"
The halfling's eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly. For the rest of the morning, Sam and Silraen wandered through Lorien, easily discussing planting methods, flower varieties, and seed collecting. When he left her to find some lunch, she saw Haldir watching her from the steps leading up to their talan.
"I see you've found a kindred spirit," Haldir said, approaching her with a soft smile.
"Yes," she replied, "Are they napping?"
Haldir nodded. Silraen's eyes took on a faraway gleam as she gazed off into the trees. "It is good to have visitors. When I was young, we met so many on our travels, there were always new faces. But here, we are so isolated. . . nothing ever changes.
"I thought you liked that," Haldir's voice was quiet, controlled.
"I do," Silraen said unconvincingly.
"I hate it when you get that look in your eye."
Silraen stiffened, glancing at him in confusion, "What are you talking about?"
"Your brother warned me, you know. He told me that you were a wanderer, just like your father. Even the meaning of your name. Silraen. . .the Silver Wanderer. He told me it would not be easy to keep you here. I thought when we had children, you might be cured of your wanderlust. But, it's still there, I can see it. I fear someday I will return from patrol and you'll be gone."
"How can you say that to me?" Silraen fought to keep her voice down, "I would never leave. I have the children, my work—"
"So, you stay because you're obligated to," Haldir's voice remained infuriatingly quiet, "You don't stay because you want to."
"Don't do this," Silraen's eyes were tired, "I just had a nice morning, don't ruin it with this."
"We have to talk about this, Silraen. Because, if you're unhappy here—"
"I am happy. I have a family, a home, friends. And I have you. I have you." Silraen stepped forward, forming her hands over the sides of his jawbone, willing him to believe her, "I would stay on the Plains of Gorgoroth if it meant I could be with you."
Haldir would not meet her eyes, his gaze cast down. Finally, he whispered, "I wish I could believe that."
Silraen dropped away from him, taking a staggering step back. Haldir turned and went slowly up the stairs to their home, not once glancing back at her. Silraen felt wounded, raw. Blinking back the burning of tears, she straightened her spine and walked away. She went back into the fields and threw herself into her work.
The day grew abnormally hot, and still Silraen would not let up. Her workers exchanged nervous glances, fearing she would become sick with the heat, but also fearing her wrath when she was in such a humor. Silraen toiled until well after dark, in the cool moonlight. When she finally, reluctantly, turned toward Caras Galadhon, she had done enough work for three elves.
When Silraen returned home, everyone was already asleep. She entered her and Haldir's chamber and peeled off her filthy clothes. Silraen dropped, exhausted, beside her husband, as far from him as the bed would allow. She was asleep before he could open his mouth. And maybe that was best.
* * *
It was barely dawn when Silraen rose the next morning. Haldir pretended to sleep, but he watched her shrug into her work clothes and leave for the fields. When she was gone, he rose stiffly. He went to the porch, looking out over the city, watching Silraen walk away over the glistening dew. Her hair shone, her hips swaying in her plain work pants and Haldir turned away, pained by her beauty.
He should have kept his mouth shut. Why did he have to fight with her now? But, it had been nagging him for a long time, and seeing her with the outsiders, seeing how eagerly she listened to Legolas's stories of his journeys frightened him. He always feared he was living on borrowed time with Silraen, that it was inevitable, someday she would leave him.
Haldir returned to his bedroom and his eyes were drawn to a small shelf on the wall. He went to it, taking down the objects one by one, turning them over thoughtfully in his hands. These were the few things Silraen had possessed upon coming to the city, those things she valued enough to hang onto over leagues and leagues of travel. There was a shiny blue seashell. Haldir had never even seen an ocean. Next to that, a book in a language Haldir had never seen before. Silraen told him it was a book of Southron legends. A bear claw, a Dwarvish coin, a Corsair amulet, a bead. A smattering of artifacts from a time in Silraen's life he knew nearly nothing about. Maybe that was what frightened him so. There was an entire chapter of Silraen's life that was a mystery to him. There were stories that she always told, certain adventures she liked to talk about, but there had to be so much more he didn't know. She had given up that life for him and what did he have to offer her in exchange? Late night diaper changes and an intimate knowledge of beets. He couldn't believe she had stayed this long.
Haldir sighed, setting the purple glass bead back in its place. He had known Silraen for sixty years, but still felt he didn't fully understand her. She understood him, she knew his family, his friends, his home. But, he could not visit her home, see her roots, because she'd never had one. Even Mirkwood, which her family had been drawn back to several times, could not hold them, even there, Silraen said, they were just passing through. They had always been on the move, there was no convenient location for him to visit and with great relief finally understand Silraen's inner self. While Haldir had only known Caras Galadhon, had been shaped by his surroundings in a single place, all of Middle Earth had shaped Silraen. And, he had seen little of Middle Earth.
Haldir shook his head and dropped back into bed. Silraen could have a home here, if she only wanted it. But, he could tell she still felt like an outsider. There was little he could do. Maybe she would stay until the children were grown. Maybe longer. Maybe she'd be gone tomorrow. But surely someday she would go. The only thing he could do was thank the Valar for every single day he had with her. With that bittersweet thought on his mind, Haldir drifted back to sleep.
* * *
Thank you so much to my awesome reviewers TigerLily and Puxinette!
A/N Sorry for the long delay, but chapter 5 is all ready to go and should be up pretty quick. Thanks for your patience!