Author's Note: After a long hiatus, I've started writing again. Enjoy!!
Chapter 15: The Divide
Silraen opened one eye to a thin slit, knowing something was wrong. But for a disoriented moment, she could not name it. Then, she realized…the sun. It was beating down on her face, warm and unobstructed. The horrid clouds were gone. She rose groggily, her body sore from days on her feet and nights on the ground.
One of the women left on watch was sitting cross-legged on a boulder, scanning the horizon. Silraen greeted her quietly, "Ellor," Silraen motioned vaguely with her arm, "When? When did this happen?"
"About two hours ago." Ellor replied, "It started so gradually I did not notice at first. But, the wind picked up and it all broke apart and drifted away. It is like it was never here." Ellor paused, licking her lips anxiously, "Could…could this mean it's over? Could this mean they were victorious?"
Silraen felt hope flare within her but tamped it down, meaning to be cautious. "I don't know what it means. But, I do like it."
Silraen then went about one of her least favorite chores, which was waking the exhausted elves around her and getting them on the road. She knew they could just use half a day, even two more hours of rest to regain some strength, but they could not afford the lost time. Even now, as the gloom dissipated, Silraen could not help but look over her shoulder, haunted by the feeling they may be pursued.
For Silraen, waking Linaya seemed the cruelest of all. The mountains were no place for a pregnant elf. Silraen hesitated, looking down at Linaya for a moment. At Silraen's gentle shake, Linaya started awake, reaching to her side as she always did in an instinctive motion. Silraen frowned, wondering why she always did that. Linaya's stomach looked like it had expanded even further overnight and Silraen marveled at the fast growth of the child. That is going to be one big baby, she thought to herself.
Linaya sighed quietly. Every morning she awoke confused, not sure why she was on the ground, not sure why she was dirty and achy. And always she reached for Rumil, thinking as long as he was beside her, it was going to be all right. But she woke up alone. She felt more distant from him than ever over the past few days. It had to be the miles, the mountains that left her feeling so suddenly alone.
The climb was grueling that day, but Silraen noticed a spring in the step of the elves, including herself. It was the sun, which could seem harsh and unrelenting at times, but now felt only comforting, burning off all the vapors of anything evil. Silraen could feel a giggle bubbling up within her, and shared a smile with Linaya who walked beside her. Linaya returned the expression, but her eyes were a little bewildered. What was Silraen so happy about?
Silraen stopped so quickly that the horse grunted in protest at the sudden jerk on his bit. All the sunshine for a hundred years couldn't make her smile at that moment. She handed the reins to Linaya and took a few tentative steps forward. Peering over the precipice, she heard the wind whistle through the canyon with unnecessary fury and Silraen froze, almost angry at the canyon for…existing.
"I drifted too far east," she mumbled to no one in particular, pursing her lips at her own stupidity.
"What is it?" Linaya dared speak up from behind her, knowing those further back in line were wondering the same thing. Silraen looked back, watching the apprehension in the wide blue-green eyes of her sister-in-law. Silraen sighed, "I've made a mistake. I had hoped to skirt around this canyon, but well…here we are." Silraen took a step closer to Linaya and lowered her voice, "Move them all back away from the edge and start passing out food for lunch. Put a couple of elves on watch. I'll go down and scout for a path. Don't move until I return. Can you do this?"
Linaya nodded, pleased to be entrusted with these duties. She set off at once, but after a few steps she paused.
"Silraen. Be careful."
But, Silraen had already crawled over the edge and out of sight.
It had been three hours. Silraen was exhausted, her hands scraped raw by the rocks and the hem of her dress caked with mud. She tucked a few errant hairs behind her pointed ears and continued up the opposite wall of the canyon, breathing heavily. Despite her own discomfort, she was pleased to have found a wide path that switched back along the canyon wall. She was sure the horses could traverse it with minimal danger.
Silraen reached out, leaning on a rock for a moment to rest. The river that ran lazily along the canyon floor could be faintly heard and birds wheeled overhead on the wild currents, screeching joyfully. Silraen watched them, but then found herself scanning the opposite wall of the canyon, watching the caves and shelves and outcroppings that peppered the dark red stone. She jerked her head as she thought she saw motion on a large shelf of land. But, as she inspected the area with squinted eyes, there was nothing. She thought she smelled a hint of woodsmoke on a sharp gust of wind, but supposed it might have been forced down on a cross current from her own camp. Yes, it must be that, for there could be no one else here.
Unnerved, Silraen hurried up the winding path, wanting only to return to her family. This canyon felt ominous and she would be glad to leave it in her wake.
Taurnan was the first to spot Silraen as she emerged on the other side of the canyon and Linaya had to grab the overzealous child around the waist to keep him from getting too close to the edge. One of Silraen's fieldworkers was there to catch the coil of rope she threw and tie off the end to a sharp boulder. Silraen secured her end and ran lightly along the rope to join her comrades. She was beaming as she landed on the other side, "Problem solved," she said, but then met the horse's eye. "Except for you. You're still trouble."
The horse snorted indignantly.
Silraen had begun rounding people up to send them over the rope bridge. With the grace and balance of their ancient race thy skipped easily across.
Silraen glanced back and saw Orophin standing awkwardly on one leg, watching the other elves in anxiety. He was still unable to put weight on his broken leg for very long. Silraen approached him.
"I don't think I can do that," Orophin admitted quietly.
"You probably can't."
"So, I'll be going into the canyon?"
"You will be going into the canyon. But, I'll be going with you. It's just a few extra hours, nothing to worry about."
Orophin nodded, a look of forced confidence planted firmly on his face.
Silraen assembled a small group to lead the other horses. Most of the injured who had been sent with them were nearly healed and could cross the bridge with the rest of the group. Orophin was still too unsteady to risk it, to his deep embarrassment.
Orophin hopped obediently to his litter, feeling as useful as a sack of lembas being dragged around half of Arda. The camp had emptied quickly, and he sat alone. The sound of an argument caught his attention.
"No, Taurnan, you stay with your grandmother and your sisters."
"But I want to go with you and uncle Orophin."
"No, Taurnan, we will be back before it is dark. You go with them and wait for us like I told you. Is that clear?"
Orophin didn't hear the young boy's response, but soon Silraen had taken the reins and was leading him into the canyon. He assumed she had won the battle.
Orophin twisted around in his litter, making a face as he struggled to find a comfortable position from which to speak with Silraen.
"Halnorel has been quiet these last few days," he commented carefully.
"That is just fine with me, as long as she doesn't have anymore…visions." Silraen did not look back at Orophin, the topic making her uneasy. She made a great show of picking her way down the trail, hoping he would change the subject.
"You don't think it is special? What she can do? The things she can see?" he asked, always tenacious.
"No," Silraen said, her lips drawn to a thin line, "I don't see anything good about it. You saw the last episode she had. She went wild, she had no control over what was happening to her. All I know is whatever this is, it is hurting her. I hope she grows out of it."
"Do you think she could tell us…tell us what is happening back home?"
Silraen was quiet for so long Orophin thought surely she would not answer him. Then, she said in a controlled voice, "I could never ask that of her."
"Then why did you bring the Lady's gifts? The pitcher and the bowl?"
From his awkward position, Orophin saw her spine straighten.
"How do you know about that?" she asked in a dangerous monotone.
"They are on the same horse as my bandages. You believe in your daughter's talents more than you say, or you would have left them behind."
"No," Silraen insisted, "I dared not disrespect Galadriel by refusing her gifts. My daughter is a normal child. She will grow out of this."
Silraen fell silent, but after a pained exhalation, she said, "It's like I don't know who she is sometimes. I raised her, I carried her in my womb, I should know her better than myself. But, since the visions, I look in her eyes and my baby isn't there. I have never seen those eyes before."
Finally, mercifully, Orophin let the topic of Halnorel drop. He turned back, watching the rough canyon walls pass by him in the uncomfortable silence.
That same silence, growing ever more potent in the afternoon heat, was broken only be the scrape of hooves over stones for the next hour. Orophin opened his mouth, finally ready to apologize for upsetting her, when he felt his litter jump beneath him. In the next instant, he felt his rear impact the rough trail and the heel of his broken leg bounced off a rock. He managed to resist cursing and settled on a sharp groan.
Silraen turned and did the cursing for him. "I guess it was just one bump too many," she sighed as she surveyed the damage. The sides of the litter had splintered, and there was a tear in the canvas. The rest of the party had stopped and Silraen yelled to them, "The litter is broken. It will take me a while to fix. Go on up without us."
"We can wait for you."
"No," Silraen said firmly, "I want us all out of here, soon. Go on."
More quietly, she said to Orophin, "I don't like this place. The wind feels heavy. We are being warned to move on."
Orophin nodded, his green eyes troubled as they clashed with hers.
Orophin was tempted to argue that he did not need the litter anymore, but there was a tension across Silraen's shoulders and he knew she was in no mood. She helped him off to the side as the sounds of their departing companions faded away. Silraen dug through the ruined litter, trying to envision some way it could be salvaged.
"I'm sorry," Orophin said gently.
"For what?" Silraen snapped.
"I don't know. It was just too quiet and that was the first thing I came up with."
A slow smile spread across Silraen's face, "Apology accepted," she chuckled.
"Good, I feel better then. So, what's the damage?"
Silraen scowled tossing one of the splintered handles aside for good measure. "It's firewood now. Will you be all right here if I go look for a small tree to take down?"
"Of course." He watched as she dug a hatchet from the myriad of objects on his horse's back. "You know, I really think I'm ready to—"
"You're not ready to walk, don't even bother saying it."
Orophin watched her pick her way up the trail and stuck his tongue out at her retreating back.
"If you're sure that this battle was…you know, it, that the fighting is done, then I respectfully request to go find my wife and children." Haldir shifted from one foot to the other before Celeborn, rubbing one bloody, callused hand against his thigh. "My men too, now that Thranduil's army has arrived, they want to know…"
Celeborn's dark blue eyes were sympathetic as he said that single, liberating word. "Go."
"Thank you, my lord," Haldir said with a smile of relief, turning on his heel. His soldiers, who had been pretending not to listen, let up an unorganized cheer as they knew they could now bring their families home. Belegant fell into step beside Haldir, "I'm going with you."
"Have you cleared this with your King?"
"I cannot wait for him to arrive. If it means I lose my rank, I will deal with that upon my return. I need to see my sister and the children safe."
Haldir scowled, not impressed by the rebelliousness Belegant was known for. "Do you not trust me to care for my own family?"
Belegant just let a cold smile twitch across his lips, leaving the question hanging in the air between them. He turned, calling over his shoulder, "I have to sharpen my sword. Don't leave without me."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Haldir growled under his breath.
Haldir saw then Thellendur watching him in silence. Finally, the seasoned elf said, "He will be good to have along, Haldir. He traveled those lands with Silraen in his youth, he may know a route she would take."
"He might well improve his attitude if he will be traveling with us." Haldir began walking to the armory, weaving around debris. Thellendur took a long stride over a charred beam, staying in step with his captain.
"Belegant doesn't answer to you and he knows it," Thellendur observed, "Is that not what bothers you so? You are used to being in charge."
Haldir came to a dead stop, prepared to defend himself while sternly reprimanding the other elf. But, he began walking again and with a pout he said, "Yes, that's exactly it." He stopped again, and Thellendur came to halt beside him. "You're right. And as long as he helps me find Silraen and my children and all the others, that is all that matters. I don't have to like him."
"No, you don't. But, he is family."
"He's my wife's family, not mine." Haldir's scowl deepened.
"It's not that simple and you know it," Thellendur said quietly, "And, here and now, he's the only family you have."
Haldir bit back a sarcastic reply as the full weight of that statement sank in. Though he considered his soldiers to be like family, Belegant was different. Belegant and Haldir had a single goal in common, to find what they had lost. It would do them little good to butt heads when they both wanted the same thing.
"Thank you, Thellendur," Haldir said quietly, "I will try harder to get along."
Haldir could only hope his brother-in-law would keep his priorities straight as well.
In less than an hour, they were underway. For the briefest moment, Haldir smiled, feeling his chest swell with happiness that he was finally moving in the right direction…toward Silraen.
Orophin watched Silraen whittle away at the end of a young green branch, fashioning a crossbar with great patience. "Can I help?" he asked casually.
"No," Silraen said without looking up, "I'm almost done."
Silraen stood and began lashing the parts together, her hands steady and confident. Orophin tried not to watch so intently, but she had such graceful hands, and her hair—
He tore his eyes away, suddenly very aware that they were the only two people in this canyon. He ripped out a blade of grass and began tearing it into segments with his fingernails, anything to keep him occupied. When the new drag was completed, Silraen helped Orophin rise and hobble over to it. He struggled to dull his senses, to be unaware of how good Silraen smelled and the feeling of a stray strand of her hair that tickled his cheek. But, just like every time he was near Silraen, he memorized the moment, filed it away with all the other things he shouldn't feel but did. A brooding silence descended upon them again as Silraen took up the reins.
They continued their descent into the canyon. Silraen listened briefly for sounds of the rest of their party, but surely they were long gone and nearly to the top of the other side by now. They were in the deep cool shadow of the canyon wall. Birds chirped from the scraggly trees growing out of crags in the rock. She tried to relax and dispel the tension in her chest. She exhaled a long breath, but gasped again as one of her feet slipped on the soft gray shale. Silraen twisted, trying to jump to higher ground, but she slid quickly, the ground giving way beneath her. The reins were torn from her hands. She did not hear Orophin yell her name. He fought to his feet as she tumbled down the rough canyon wall. She landed awkwardly in a crack in the stone, her head bouncing off of it so hard Orophin cried out again.
"Silraen?" he called, his voice ragged, "Silraen, please open your eyes. Please Silraen."
Her eyes fluttered open as she winced, looking around in bewildered annoyance.
"Don't move Silraen, I'm coming down."
"No, settle down, I'm all right." She struggled to sit up, but he could hear her moan sharply, "Just broke an arm is all." She dredged up a grin. "We make quite a team now, don't we, with only six working limbs between us?"
Orophin shook his head, furious at her for treating the situation so lightly. He yelled down, "I'll throw down a rope and we'll pull you up."
After several awkward attempts, Silraen managed to get a rope around herself so the horse could drag her up. Though she kept her bad arm tucked in tight to her body, she still struggled not to cry out as it was jostled in her ascent. The pain brought white flashes to the back of her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut and shuffled her feet up the rock. When she neared the trail, Orophin left the horse and stumbled to her, lifting her up like she weighed little more than a child. He pulled her to him, breathing against her hair for one long moment. As he released her, she tried to meet his troubled green eyes, but he looked away, his face closed. "Let me look at your arm," he said simply.
Silraen was feeling sick and tired and could feel tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as he probed the ends of the broken bone. Her other hand was balled into a rock hard fist and she drove it into the rough trail as the pain intensified. "Stop," she said through clenched teeth, "I just need a second. Please just stop."
She could feel Orophin watching her now, now when she didn't want him to. She didn't look up, not even when he brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "You are very strong," he whispered.
"No. That's not true," she glanced up at him then, for one long moment. Then she looked back down and said, "I'm ready. I'll be all right now."
"I'm going to have to set it," Orophin whispered.
"I know."
Before either of them could give it any more thought, Orophin grabbed her hand and pulled outward. The pain was blinding, wrenching, fiery. Then, as the ends of the break straightened, the pain eased. Silraen could hear a scream echoing back at her from the canyon walls and it took several seconds for Silraen to realize it was her own.
She fell back onto the ground, breathing heavy, studying the clouds. She did not watch as Orophin limped to the horse, digging through the packs for something to splint her arm. She just watched the white and blue of the sky. She studied the edges of the wispy clouds where they shared an ambiguous boundary with the rest of the heavens. She rested, waited and let someone else do the worrying for a change.
Silraen looked down and found a thickly wrapped splint over her arm. Orophin slipped a hand under her back and lifted her enough to wrap a sling around her neck. Silraen tried to stand, but he held her shoulder. "Not yet. You're going to rest here a few hours."
She opened her mouth to argue, but then laid back where she had been. Only days earlier she would have had the will to fight to her feet. But, weakness overtook her, and she lay in the middle of the trail, like a flattened stone warmed by the sun.