Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter 1
Chapter 5: The Warning
For the next few weeks, there was a chilly distance between Haldir and Silraen. He wanted to apologize and set things right, but he could see Silraen wasn't ready to hear it. She was determined to be angry for a little longer.
Silraen had to say good-bye to Legolas and Sam as their quest called them back to the road. Haldir stood at her side and saw the deep longing in her eyes as she watched them go. If he had ever been unsure of her desire to return to the wilds, his doubts were washed away by that moment. She could claim all she wanted that she was happy here. Her eyes told a different story.
Haldir went on a few uneventful patrols. The border was the quietest it had been in months. Halnorel's visions stopped abruptly. Maybe they had all been overreacting.
Now, it was March, the grass was greener, the air lighter, and Haldir, Rumil, and Orophin re-entered Caras Galadhon after a two-day patrol. They were laughing at a story Rumil had told them, all three glad to be home. Taurnan, having heard them from where he was playing beneath the mallorn, sprinted to them. Haldir kneeled, bracing for the impact of the energetic youngster who flung himself into Haldir's arms. He hugged Taurnan's slight frame to him. When he released him, he tousled the boy's wheat blond hair. It was already falling out of the careful braids Silraen wove it into every day. He didn't know why she bothered, the wild little elfling could usually ruin them in less than fifteen minutes.
Rumil hurried away to find his bride, and Orophin and Haldir obediently followed Taurnan, who had something to show them that simply could not wait.
Haldir and Orophin entered the silent house to find Taurnan had already scurried into his room and gotten the kite. He excitedly explained that he had made it the day before with Silraen and Halnorel and they had flown it the entire afternoon in the fields. It was a beautiful kite, large, made of blue fabric painted with feathers. The bright, blocky feathers were clearly of a child's hand, while here and there was the detailed, thoughtful work of Silraen.
Taurnan was regaling Orophin with stories of the kite's performance when the door opened. Silraen entered, looking distracted, and took a few steps before halting in surprise that the house was not empty. It was then that Haldir saw she clutched her forearm with her hand, blood seeping between her fingers and down her wrist, a shocking shade of red against her pale skin. She said hello to them all and continued calmly to the washroom.
Haldir hurried after her. "Silraen, are you all right? What happened?"
"I was hauling stone for the new wall and I fell. I scraped my arm on a rock." She turned her back to him, taking down a rolled bandage from the shelf.
"Fell or passed out?" Haldir asked. The dull cast of her skin was alarming, she looked faded and thin. She refused to respond, which was answer enough for him. Haldir circled her, taking her arm in his hands to examine her wound.
"Get off of me, I'm fine," she snapped pulling away. Haldir ground his jaw, watching her with palpable frustration. He turned and closed the door so Orophin and Taurnan would not hear and said, "I know you are angry with me. But, if you think you're going to punish me by working yourself to death...well, all right, that would be a pretty effective punishment. But, you have got to stop, Silraen. I won't let you keep doing this."
Silraen wasn't listening to him, her eyes were unfocused and she swayed slightly on her feet. Haldir gripped the sides of her arms and urged her down onto the floor, where she leaned weakly against the wall.
She didn't argue when he cleansed the wound and bound it with the careful efficiency of a seasoned soldier. When it was finished, he sat back on his heels, looking closely into her glassy eyes. "I am so sorry for the things I said before. I know an apology doesn't make up for it, but I don't know what else I can say. But, Silraen, you're scaring me. You've got to let up or you're going to drop dead between two rows of tomatoes and no one wants that to happen."
Silraen looked down, fingering the edges of her bandage. Finally, her eyes shot up to his, weeks worth of hurt and anger blazing from her gaze, "How could you believe I would leave you? Do you have so little faith in me, Haldir? Do you really think I would abandon you, abandon our children on...on a whim? Am I such a terrible wife and mother that you have to worry that I'll run off?"
"No, Silraen, no. You're a good mother and a perfect wife. We're just so different, and sometimes I think we want different things, we have different dreams."
"We're not that different," Silraen insisted, "And I don't know about you, but I am living my dream right now. At least, I was, until we started fighting and it got so cold in our bedroom that I can see my breath most of the time."
Haldir chuckled, ducking his head for a moment. When he looked up, a smile still lingering on his mouth, Silraen was grinning softly too. The bitterness and annoyance that had tainted her face before were gone. His Silraen was back, with her knowing smile and warm eyes.
Haldir dropped forward onto his knees, framing her face with his hands. He moved his face to hers, his lips so near to her own, but he hesitated, searching her eyes. Unable to stand it any longer, Silraen dug her fingers into Haldir's hair and pulled him in for a kiss. The kiss was searing, Haldir's mouth pressing so hungrily to hers that her head slammed back against the wall. He was just reaching for the buttons of her shirt when a tiny fist beat on the door.
"Whatcha doing in there?" Taurnan asked, "Uncle Orophin said I should ask if you were done playing doctor."
Haldir groaned, breaking off the kiss and pressing his forehead to Silraen's. On a ragged whisper, he said, "We will continue this later. And I promise, no frost will be settling in our bedroom tonight."
Silraen giggled, allowing Haldir to pull her to her feet. He was still holding one of her hands when they left the washroom, both looking a little flushed.
"Thank you, Uncle Orophin," Haldir said dryly. The mischievous smirk that crossed Orophin's lips drew a reluctant laugh from Silraen.
"Come on," Haldir said, releasing Silraen's hand to lift Taurnan in his arms, "Let's get you back to Grandmother's so that Mama can rest." Silraen still looked pale and exhausted, and he was not about to let her go back to the fields. He turned to Silraen, his voice allowing for no argument, "And she will stay here and rest for the afternoon. She has a big night ahead of her."
Silraen smiled and sauntered back to the bedroom, shooting a heated look at Haldir over her shoulder that she hoped would sustain him until sundown. He shook his head in amazement. As they left the house, Silraen could faintly hear Taurnan asking, "What's happening tonight, Daddy? What's Mama going to be doing? Huh? Daddy?"
Silraen chuckled and settled in for some much needed sleep.
* * *
The children were finally asleep, the toys were finally picked up, the city had finally fallen silent. Silraen and Haldir were already undressing each other as they shut the door behind them, and Haldir pressed her back against the smooth wood of it for a kiss. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to bed, lifting one knee onto it to set her down gently. He kissed her again, slowly, beginning to lie down beside her, when a most unwelcome sound reached them. There was a pounding on the door, but not of a small child's fist. This was a full-sized soldier's fist.
Haldir lifted his mouth from Silraen's and cursed violently. For a moment, he wondered if the punishment for wringing the neck of whoever waited on his doorstep would be exile or simply a court-martial. With a scowl, he lifted himself off of Silraen and struggled awkwardly into his pants.
Silraen, concerned, grabbed a dress and let it drop down over her head. She did only the most half-hearted job of lacing up the front, but the scandalous amount of skin showing on her chest bothered her little. For them to rouse Haldir at such an hour, something had to be very wrong.
Haldir had regained composure and was every bit the Captain as he left their bedroom. Silraen followed a few steps behind, hanging back as he opened the front door. Galenos, one of Haldir's most trusted commanders, was there, dressed in full armor. Without preamble, he said, "Orc scouts have been found on this side of the river. The Lady's witchcraft seems to deter them no longer. Orophin believes an attack is imminent, that they will come from the north."
Haldir nodded, "Give me two minutes."
He marched back into their bedroom, hurriedly strapping on his armor, arraying his cloak over his shoulders. Silraen stayed out of his way, instead opening the door to the children's room. Seeing they still slept in peaceful ignorance of the danger, she leaned in the doorway and watched them. Wrapping her arms tightly over her middle, Silraen drew in a shaky breath and bit her lip.
She felt gentle hands come to settle on her waist, and Haldir whispered, "Shall I wake them?"
Silraen shook her head quickly, turning back to the living room. "Let them sleep. They can see you when you get back."
Haldir's face tightened for a moment, but he refused to voice the fear that haunted them both.
"Silraen," he whispered, drawing her to him, feeling the way she trembled slightly in fear. "I'll be back soon. And we will have our night together. Manwë himself can knock on that door and he will not stop us."
Silraen laughed reluctantly. She looked up at him, her blue eyes glittering with restrained tears, and suddenly, one escaped, slipping down her cheek like a tiny glass marble.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching up to scrub the moisture away with the heel of her hand.
Haldir caught her wrist, drawing her hand down, "It's all right. I'm afraid too."
"But, it does no good for me to cry," she said unsteadily, "Like we talked about before, I am not like this, not like Linaya, not like the other wives."
"This isn't like any other patrol and you know that. But, do not despair. I have a lot to come home to. I'll be back before you know it."
Silraen nodded silently, unable to meet his eyes. Haldir cupped her chin and lifted her face gently. She gazed at him, their eyes speaking the volumes of endearments this hasty good-bye did not allow. Then, he kissed her quickly, sweetly, and swept out of the room.
Silraen went to the porch, watching Haldir leave, seeing lanterns blaze to life in the windows of other flets as all the soldiers were roused from their beds. It was too much for Silraen, and she knew she, the Captain's wife, could not be seen sobbing on her terrace. As she turned to re-enter the sanctuary of her home, a small form flew by her.
Halnorel ran down the stairs so quickly she nearly stumbled. "Daddy, no!" she wailed, the raw pain in her voice echoing over the valley, "You can't go."
Silraen hurried after her. Haldir had picked up the girl, and stood on the stairs, clutching her shuddering body to his chest. Between sobs, she babbled, "Something bad will happen. They come into the city and set it on fire. I've seen it. I've seen it, Daddy!"
Haldir whispered soothing words, stroking her hair, but she would not be assuaged, "You can't leave us, Daddy. They're coming. You don't stop them. They know, Daddy. They know how to fool you. You have to stay! You have to stay!"
Silraen reached for Halnorel, gripping the girls' waist, but she held fast, refusing to be separated from her father. When Silraen finally tore the flailing elfling away from Haldir, Halnorel screeched and clawed, fighting to go back to him.
"Go," Silraen ordered, pinning Halnorel's arms to her sides and sitting heavily with the child in her lap. It broke her heart to be so forceful with the girl, but Halnorel was nearly hysterical.
Haldir hesitated, looking from Halnorel to Silraen, feeling uncertain and torn.
"Go," Silraen said desperately, rising to drag the screaming child home.
"Daddy, no! You can't go." Her brittle wail weakened and turned into great wracking sobs as she collapsed against her mother. "Daddy," she whispered one last time, watching him with tortured blue eyes, before the door closed behind them.
Haldir stood for an agonized moment, his chest tight with despair. He stared up at his house through a glassy screen of unshed tears. Then, he blinked once, and turned back to the task before him, back to the life of a Captain.
* * *
Just after dawn, Silraen arrived at Miradhel's flet, three elflings in tow. Halnorel's face was puffy from several hours of crying in Silraen's lap. She had finally sobbed herself to exhaustion and dropped off to sleep three or four hours after the army departed. Needless to say, Silraen had slept little herself.
Miradhel opened the door, and upon seeing Silraen dressed for the fields, a look bordering on horror marred her perfect face.
Silraen quietly urged the older children to go play. She went to the back room and deposited the sleeping baby in her crib. She turned to find Miradhel hovering close behind her. Miradhel cornered her next to the crib and whispered fiercely, "Just what in the blazes do you think you're doing?"
"I'm going to work, what does it look like I'm doing?" Silraen made to brush past Miradhel, but the older elf caught her arm, a surprising strength in the small hand.
"How can you work at a time like this? With the army out there, fighting for this city?"
"It is better than sitting at home, making myself sick with worry. My work still needs to be done, and I see no reason to neglect it." Silraen extracted her arm, about to leave the room.
"Can't it
wait? Can't you stay in today?"
Silraen kept her back to Miradhel, frowning at the pain in her mother-in-law's voice. Was it that she did not want to be alone, that she needed Silraen's protection? Silraen nearly forgot sometimes that Orophin was her only company, and he was in the same danger as Haldir.
Silraen's eyes softened, but Miradhel piped up again, her voice shrill, "Must you be so selfish, Silraen? Can't you think of your children for once?"
Silraen turned slowly, a look of distaste on her features. Quietly, she said, "Do you have any idea how dry it is out there? Do you know how long we've been without rain? No, you wouldn't, because I've never even seen you outside the city walls. My work can't wait one day. If I don't get some water on those fields now, before the sun is high, by winter you'll have nothing left to eat but the bark off of this tree. Do you understand?"
"Who says we'll still be alive by winter?" Miradhel whispered.
Silraen stepped forward, poking a finger at Miradhel, "Don't you indulge in dark speculation around my children, Miradhel. I won't have them getting discouraged. We will see winter, their daddy is coming home, and everything will be all right."
Turning, her back stiff, Silraen left Miradhel to digest that. She crossed the sitting room, meaning to leave for the fields, but as she reached for the doorknob, she felt a small hand grab her own. Silraen looked down and back, into Halnorel's solemn face.
"Can I go with you, Mama?"
Silraen studied the small, finely-shaped face, with its rounded chin and soulful eyes. Silraen wanted to tell her no, she knew Haldir would be furious when he discovered Silraen had taken her to the fields beyond the city walls. But, Silraen found she could not leave her child behind, not when her eyes pleaded so. She nodded once, leading the child out the door. She did not turn back to see the disapproving glare of Miradhel, did not see how tiny and alone she looked in the middle of her grand living room.
As Silraen and Halnorel reached ground level, she saw several of her workers were emerging from their homes as well, silently turning for the fields. Silraen gave them grateful looks, knowing words would only cheapen the moment. She sensed that they needed the comfort of routine, the calming effect of labor just as much as she did. As they all walked slowly through the curling mists of morning, she saw that many of her male workers were absent. Surely some rapid recruiting by her own husband to boost the army's numbers was responsible for that. Those elves were quiet workers, not fierce fighters. They would be the first to fall, should the battle go badly. Silraen drew in a shuddering breath, forcing down the sob that threatened to bubble up from deep inside her. It wasn't fair.
The fields were solemn at first, but soon a few of the elves sang quietly to themselves, and some even made the most feeble attempts at jokes. Any diversion was welcome and Silraen laughed even though she did not feel very much like laughing. In mid-afternoon, Tevanna, her youngest worker and the bride of one of Haldir's brightest new commanders, collapsed between the rows, sobbing brokenly. The elves all paused for a moment of discomfort, and it was Halnorel who moved first. She rushed over to the crying elf and wrapped her skinny arms around her. Silraen had never been so proud of her daughter. Silraen went to them, gently drawing Tevanna to her feet and half-carrying her back to the city and the home of her parents.
The mood was darkened by that incident, but they somehow managed to water all the fields and Silraen and Maril continue their work on the wall. Halnorel scrambled to the top of it, walking along the rough stones as Silraen scolded her, ordering her to get down before she hurt herself. Halnorel just laughed, enjoying her perch from the top of the wall and how the breeze tickled across her cheeks. Silraen's angry face was turned up toward her, but suddenly, Halnorel could not hear her. Silraen's mouth moved emphatically, but there was no sound. The breeze stopped, the air grew cold, the sky darkened to a slate gray. Halnorel sunk down onto her knees, whimpering. It was happening again.
She looked up with alarm as great tongues of flame lashed and waved over the forest, and she heard pained screams, the smoke burning down her throat. She saw a sudden flash of cold yellow eyes, smelled the reeking breath of a creature so hideous she shuddered at the sight. Then, just as quickly it was gone. Silraen's voice reached her, thick with concern, calling her name. The vision was over and yet...it was not. Halnorel stood, her knees shaking violently, looking out over the southern reaches of the forest. She tilted her head, listening. Silraen froze as well, looking back over her shoulder at the trees. They had gone silent. The trees were afraid. And, in a moment of red panic, so was Silraen.
She heard it then, the pounding of booted feet. No elf moved like that. Many of the other elves had paused in their work, turning their attention to the shadowed trees along the edge of the field. She was about to turn around, to reach up for Halnorel, when a roughly fletched arrow cut through the air, tearing into Maril's chest. The smallest gasp escaped his lips, so quiet it was more felt than heard, and he dropped to the ground, dead before he landed.
* * *
Huge Thanks to my reviewers: Tigerlily, moonbunny77, and Puxinette. You guys rock!