Title: Faril Nin [My Huntress]
Author: Codi Lyn { iluvobiwan91
Genre: Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: PG-13 – R (for descriptive battle scene/wounds)
Pairing: Orophin/OFC [Gwaeron]
Timeline: Begins before the Fellowship enters Lorien in Third Age 3018… concludes during Fourth Age 250
Chapter: 3/13
Chapter Summary: "Gwaeron dreams of a battle, one in which our galadhrim will fight, and her eyes behold Orophin struck by an evil blade. She cannot yet see that it is her rejection of his love that causes him to welcome death, believing that no reason remains to live without her."
Author's Note: I don't know quite what season it is when the Fellowship are in Lorien, and so there are a few changes in time-flow versus how things played out in the movies. Follows movie-verse, but I make a few references to things that happened in the books. But little things like these I have the license to play with, as the author. J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson have rights to the important stuff, this story is written purely for pleasure.
Chapter ThreeWith physical pain, Gwaeron released herself from him and ran unhindered from where Orophin still remained as a statue of sorrow, moving quickly until she had returned to the sitting room where Anauriel and Rúmil sat trying to calm a wailing Véredhiel. They each looked to her sudden appearance in shock of her state: red of her eyes betrayed shining tears as her frantic movement revealed the immense guilt of what she had just done. Ana rose to comfort her friend but the woman would not have it, backing out of reach like a frightened animal. "Please… please, take care of Véredhiel and let me be alone for a time." She begged the elleth with a voice hardly her own and was relieved to be answered with a nod. "Forgive me, Rúmil. I am being so rude to you, but I must leave." She excusing herself in haste, unable to keep a sob from leaking into her words though he clearly forgave her actions and murmured not to worry over it.
Immediately she left the talan before either of them could offer anything further and prevent her from loosing the loud cries that ripped through her body. A glance was hardly spared for Orophin's talan that would be filled with everything of him to torture her guilt-wrecked conscience. Instead she continued on, holding her skirts so that her legs could run and her mouth so that her cries would not alarm all of Lorien to her grief, though elves she passed looked on in confusion and concern at her countenance.
To her relief, Rúmil and Orophin lived on the outskirts of the city, near to the borders and the few clearings where the horses of elvish cavalry grazed freely. It was to such meadow her feet instinctively led her, certain that among such beautiful animals she could draw some form of comfort at least. Though night had settled and the sun's light put away until dawn, the field was illuminated in part by a half moon and in part by a large mallorn tree that dwelt stately in the midst of the clearing. Stumbling the rest of the way, Gwaeron collapsed when she reached a giant root at its base, holding onto it as her cries consumed her.
The last look in Orophin's eyes haunted her still, the raw pain and betrayal she had dealt him made her sick to her stomach. Her words had broken him, and the knife she had stabbed into his heart now protruded from her own. With great struggle, the woman recalled her reasons for this conviction that brought so great a hurt. Beneath the façade of conviction, however, the weight of her resolve threatened to crumble the frail supports her heart tried to keep in place, and she feared what would happen once they broke.
Gwaeron found herself longing for Estel's presence and consolation; the only person who could possibly know what she felt for he, too, had come to love one of the Firstborn as she had. Still, she shook her head at the differences. His beloved Arwen, at least, could claim the heritage of being half-elven, able to choose between immortal life and finite. Whether their circumstances mirrored or not, the lady ranger could not help wanting the security of her brother's arms with the familiarity born only from kinship.
Inside she knew Orophin to be right that she did not want this. Another sob shook her as his words came to remembrance: 'All I see is that you change your will outside, but when I look within you… you do not truly wish it.' They had grown too close over the decades for him not to sense her true feelings. "But it doesn't matter." She told herself feebly, wiping at the tears that blinded her. "It doesn't matter what I wish, it's what must be done… what should have been done so long ago." Her misery must be born if she was to do what was right by them both.
The sound of approaching hooves drew her watery gaze upwards to see one horse making his way to see what her noise was all about. Among the numerous sleek and light-footed creatures, this creature was of the handful of taller, more strongly built steeds clearly bred for endurance in battle rather than speed of distance. His tanned palomino coloring shone as he stopped just short of reaching her, forelock shielding much of his sight, but ears attentive to her as she moved to meet him with a weary smile. "Aren't you a handsome beau?" Though her voice still held the tremors of weeping, Gwaeron sought to calm herself and change her focus, if but for a little while.
His nostrils flared at her outstretched hand in greeting and nibbled with fuzzy lips to test for a treat lying therein. Drawing near until his hooves stood at her boots and his muscular neck leveled to her height, the stallion allowed her hands to pet him though the careful touch of her fingers merely made his skin twitch until she began to rub more steadily. The rhythm she stroked soothed her and the ranger softly spoke words of praise until it lulled them both into a comfortable stillness. When he nickered after some time they both lifted their heads to see someone approaching and Gwaeron swallowed down some nerves to see it was Haldir, his sharp gaze already locked upon her.
"Gwaeron." The warden's voice was impassive as he addressed her, to which she responded in a subdued 'hello.' The moment dragged before he turned his attention the horse before them and commented. "It would seem you've found a companion in my Voronwië." The elf's capable hands began to move over his steed in assessment before rubbing him down with the grooming brush he'd brought.
"Yes, he came over as I sat here. I didn't know he belonged to you." The answer hinted that had she known the ownership of the horse, she would have left well enough alone. There were a few awkward minutes of silence that confirmed Gwaeron's decision to leave him be, yet just as she moved to do so he spoke once again.
"Why are you not with Orophin? I could count on one hand the times I have seen you without my brother at your side." The inquiry was as valid as his reasoning and he looked up to study her when she did not immediately respond. His eyes found a distressed woman whose troubled expression belied the guilt that riddled her. "Gwaeron…" Haldir pressed her when she began back away, bringing restless hands up to cover tears of shame. The ranger could not escape in the state she was in, however, not especially when the Marchwarden held her in his aim to question.
The woman gasped softly when strong hands took hold of her wrists for the second time that evening, though she could have written a list of how many ways the same action differed from between the brothers. There was no gentleness in his grasp, not relenting until her breathing had settled enough to voice her protests. "Haldir, please, I don't…"
"What has happened? Tell me." Coolly, he commanded of her and waited with tightened grip for the reply as an interrogator would of his prisoner.
The last thing Gwaeron wanted to do was confess her woes to the unfeeling Marchwarden of Lothlorien, but at present it seemed she had no choice in the matter. The elf had made it abundantly clear over the years that he held no concern for her, but ever the protective firstborn son, she relented he deserved to know the cause of his brother's heartache from the source. "I have ended my relationship with Orophin." The statement disgusted her as it came forth as succinct fact. Feeling the need to explain, to show that it was not some petty conflict that could have been resolved or mended in a day or two, she went on. "I could not ignore our differences any longer… I can't bear the thought of him following me in death when that is not his lot." Tears seeped into her voice at the last, but her eyes leveled with Haldir's and fought to show him her conviction.
The elf was silent a moment as he examined her, finally releasing her arms from the vice of his hands when he had found whatever satisfied him. "Your decision is admirable, ranger. I respect you for making it." A sense of relief could be felt in his reaction and he took a step back from her to regain propriety's distance once more. "It is the right solution, and wise of you to see it."
Gwaeron could not swallow back the bad taste in her mouth as she listened to his approval, thought she willingly tried to accept it. "Will you say so to Orophin, should you see him?" At his nod the woman lowered her gaze and allowed her legs to take her away from the austere elf at last. "I'm doing the right thing."
The abandoned elf sat frozen in place where she'd left him, in shock of what had just occurred, a hand straying to his lips where only moments ago he had felt hers pressed. 'I cannot continue to withhold you… I waste time in finding a husband of my own… I am still bound to this earth.' Her words forced themselves repeatedly through Orophin's head and they tasted like the bile that had risen in the back of his throat. It was over. Could it be she had truly just left… to spare his heart? Before he could quell it, a brief, bitter whim spoke the thought of what a thorough job she had done of sparing his heart. No, he could not think unkindly of his beloved, not when her heart was clearly as broken as his. All their years together, loving one another yet just shy of saying the words. He could still the despair in her eyes.
"Orophin?" Rúmil came down the hall calling for his brother, hesitantly entering the room with a lantern in hand. "Orophin, what has happened? Gwaeron just left, weeping as I've never seen her do… and you are close to the same state." The last he spoke when he set his light down and finally saw the elf's despondent face. Kneeling at his brother's side, Rúmil looked him over with evident worry. Orophin's eyes stared moist and unseeing ahead of him, his hands lying palms up in his lap as he sat on his haunches before the bedside. The younger brother put a hand on his shoulder and was met with the slow focusing of hollow eyes, as if death were already trying to take its hold.
"She's gone." His voice cracked and tears that had barely been withheld before were now released to stain his cheeks. "She left so that I wouldn't die." Rúmil's countenance fell as he realized what had occurred. Pausing only a moment, he pulled his brother to him and enclosed Orophin in a strong hold, feeling the elder cling to him as grief shook sobs from his body. "I love her, Rúmil. I asked her if she loved me… she would say nothing." Orophin strained to speak and held his brother in a harder grasp.
"She loves you, brother… she always has." The assurance in Rúmil's voice was what he needed and Orophin tried to force himself on the truth. Gwaeron did love him.
Anauriel took her time walking to Orophin's flat from Rúmil's, trying to bounce and comfort Véredhiel in whatever way she could, though every attempt proved fruitless. The elfling had not ceased her frantic cries since Gwaeron and Orophin had begun to be at odds, and nothing calmed her as the evening wore on. For more than one reason now, Anauriel hoped fervently that the lady ranger would return.
The elleth jumped slightly when a shadow manifested itself into Tar's broad form, tail wagging slowly as he looked up with a whine. Sparing a hand to scratch his head as they climbed the steps, she crooned to the great dog. "You've been out here listening to it all, haven't you pup? Come on, then, let's wait for your mistress to come home." Amidst the baby's crying they moved into the talan and were rewarded when after some time Gwaeron walked feebly through the doorway.
No matter Ana's efforts to coax an explanation out of her, to speak at all, the woman would only shake her head as more tears leaked down her face. Wordless, still, she took the child into her arms and cradled Véredhiel close to her chest as they wept together. The she-elf sat with her for a while, until it was clear she could do nothing to console the young woman in this trial, and with a kiss to her temple left the pitiful sight to settle as it would. Anauriel's feet followed the same path she had taken earlier in return to Rúmil's home and found herself met by the elf at his door once she reached it. They shared a disheartened look.
"Has Gwaeron come back?" He asked quietly, so as not to disturb the fitfully resting elf a few walls away.
The elleth answered him with a nod before sighing. "She will say nothing to me. It gives me cause to think she's spoken with someone already, for she is like to share her feelings with another rather than hide them." With a pause and half-hearted smile, she made to remark dryly. "It would be no surprise to know Elrohir gave her that hound to always have a being to talk to."
Rúmil remained uncharacteristically somber as he led her to the bench his porch provided and they sat side by side. Running a hand through his hair with a weary breath, he leaned forward till his elbows planted on his knees, thoughtful. "He told me she's left him, Ana. She's frightened that her mortality will kill him of a broken heart in the end. But Elbereth knows they are made for one another… I cannot help thinking Véredhiel is bound somehow, too."
His last comment straightened the elleth's back and she faced him. "I have thought on this, also. You could feel her despair as soon as they began to disagree, how she reached for Orophin even as you took her."
He nodded. "It was much the same even on the borders." A feminine hand moved to hold his forearm and he paused to cover it with his own, meeting her eyes with a spark of hope in his own. "Should we tell them of this connection?"
"It is a delicate matter. Perhaps we should first consult the Lady." Her suggestion was agreed to and they were quiet for a moment before Anauriel glanced within the talan. "How does Orophin fare?"
Rúmil's shook his head solemnly. "I gave him some miruvor, tried to make him rest… I know he does not sleep. Tomorrow will see him on the sparring field working too hard, I do not doubt it."
His arm was squeezed in concern. "Would that be wise?"
"I shall see to it he does not harm himself. A worse fate is for an elf such as him to be kept indoors with his grief. There is little else to be done."
She relaxed a little, appreciating after half a moment how his hand still rested protectively upon hers as they sat closely. The pleasure was denied when she took the initiative to stand up and face him gravely. "Tomorrow you must seek out Lady Galadriel to speak of this. I will remain with Gwaeron and wait for word from you."
The warden answered with a nod and took her hands gently into his own as they shared a look. "I shall hasten my return to you, my lady." His voice was as soft as the gaze he rested on her and with a fond smile Rúmil moved until their mouths joined in a slow, affectionate kiss. "Anauriel…"
"I will wait for you, tomorrow." Her words were breathless as she pulled away from him reluctantly, their eyes meeting once more as he kissed her knuckles and released her from his hold. His keen galadhrim eyes followed her until she had turned on the path home and he smiled to remember her warmth on his lips.
Anauriel approached her friend's talan the next morning with a basket on her arm filled with gowns and dresses for Gwaeron to try. It was a piteous attempt to draw the woman's mind off of desperate things, but it was something, and perhaps later her friend would wish to attempt something mundane. There was no sign of the ranger when first she entered the flat and so she laid down her light burden and called out. "Gwaeron? Are you here, dearest?" Her ears led her to the sound of quiet breathing in the washroom and sympathy furrowed her brows at the sight that met her.
The Dúnedain woman lay curled and fully clothed in an empty tub with a blanket-swaddled Véredhiel tucked in her grasp as they slept. Tar lounged on the floor beneath the tub and lifted his eyes to the approaching elf. Gwaeron's face held lines of unrest from a doubtless long night, and the baby looked as though she'd only just settled, still hiccupping a little from a recent cry. The elleth pet her fingers behind Tar's ears and turned into the kitchen to fix some tea and perhaps something to eat when the woman awoke.
Gwaeron shifted and moaned weakly in her sleep. She had tried to rest so many times in the night, but always disturbed and roused by the same terrible dream…
It was a large battle being waged within a fortress she didn't recognize. Elves and men fought with desperation against orcs the size of men that penetrated the high walls. She witnessed it all as if a shadow, unable to touch or affect anything around her and having no heed given to her presence. Blood stained her as it splattered from bodies being slaughtered, something the ranger wished she had never felt before, but had only too often experienced. The more she wiped at it, the more it seemed to cling to her flesh. They were losing. Old men and young lads fell all around her, falling amidst the massacre as orcs pushed their way into the keep. Her legs pushed her forward almost against her will, stepping over the bodies of elves and yrch alike.
A voice drew her attention upward and she saw upon the highest wall stood Orophin, blood of red and black covering his face and figure, but clear eyes shining as he gazed down at her. The moment Gwaeron realized he could see her she immediately wished it were not so, for his focus on her kept him from deflecting the orcish blade that cut deep into his back. She screamed his name in horror as he dropped heavily to his knees.
Suddenly she was at his side on the battlement and he leaned into her embrace limply. Tears flew from her eyes and onto his skin like rain until the drops manifested into true rain upon them both. The eyes of Orophin she had been searching were now the lifeless eyes of Véredhiel's father, Beriohtarion. The screaming grief that fled her lungs woke her up after every revelation.
These kinds of dreams were not foreign to her, and it was this knowledge that frightened the woman so much. It was foresight, the gift of few Dúnedain that her father had passed on to both she and her brother. In years past she had seen her mother's departure from Rivendell, and eventually the precious woman's demise in the Northlands.
With each awakening of the night she was met with a cold sweat and Véredhiel's cries, bringing the same sorrow to her voice and the long period of duress to pain before either calmed enough and found unconsciousness. The bed linens smelled decidedly of Orophin, a torture Gwaeron found her emotions were unable to bear, and had moved to the tub in desperation after the third vision. The woman's scream at this latest nightmare jolted the babe awake in her tense hold and signaled the frightened weeping that was all too familiar after losing count to so many during the night. Miserably, Gwaeron sat up a little and cradled the child soothingly, crying in aching exhaustion. "Shh, shh, my love… I'm here, you're safe, Véredhiel."
The woman's habitual rocking was interrupted at a gentle touch from Anauriel, looking down on her kindly and holding a warm bottle. "Gwaeron. Here, let me feed the darling and you lie back down to rest. Why are you not in bed?" She took the squalling baby reverently and quieted her after a moment to nurse.
Gwaeron slumped submissively back into the tub's bowl and covered burning eyes with her hands. "The sheets smell just like him. I could not bear it." Her throat hoarse from sobbing, the lady ranger hardly recognized the crack of her own voice. Tar's large head peered at her from over the side of the bath and she spared a hand to caress her sweet animal that whimpered in concern. Her wakefulness was unsteady at best, and Gwaeron vaguely listened to Ana's assurances not to worry about Véredhiel or anything until she had recovered to take care of herself. Heavy eyelids shut out the soft light of morning and enveloped the woman once more in a sporadic sleep.
Rúmil arose with the sun's rising, determined that by the end of the day he would have found some way to save Orophin's relationship and restore him to the peace and happiness he'd known only a few days before. Dressing quickly, he checked the extra bedroom his brother was supposed to use, his hope soon dashed of finding him there. With a sigh he was out the door, hoping his brother had not yet harmed anyone on the sparring courts in his state. When he arrived he found Orophin in the farthest practice ring as was usual, and Rúmil stood patiently at the rope to watch him perform his sword flourish.
The noble elf was a true sword master among the galadhrim and practiced often against the better warriors of Lorien, including both Haldir and their own lord Celeborn. To the untrained eye it would seem his beautiful motions did not tire, but Rúmil could see it in his eyes, in his stance, and even the grip of his sword that the elf had found no rest during the night. Sweat hung low on his brow, muscles tensed without need, and often he let gravity carry the blade instead of what were now wearied fingers. These troubles ran deep, and Rúmil knew he would recognize the turmoil in his elder brother from these signs alone even had he not been present last night.
Ending his flourish in the ox position, Orophin efficiently sheathed his weapon and moved to the sideline where a towel lay draped for him, addressing his brother without looking in his direction. "What do you need, Rúmil?" A mirthless voice commanded of his youngest brother.
"It would seem your night fared about as well as Gwaeron's."
The remark snapped Orophin's attention to him and furrowed his brow in concern. "What? Why? Is she all right?" Hastily demanding, he took a few steps nearer.
Rúmil put his hands up disarmingly and conceded that it had not been the right thing to say. "She's not harmed. I only say so for I heard her night terrors several times when she cried out… Most often it was your name she called."
Hearing this made Orophin turn away in pain, gripping his scabbard with white knuckles. "Have you seen her?" Quietly did he ask, eyes fixing the hilt of his sword and unable to rise for the guilt that pierced him.
"No, that is Anauriel's honor today. I will check on her, though, if you wish me to." He was answered with a nod when they neither spoke for a few moments. "Are you going to be all right, Orophin?" The concern in Rúmil's voice brought his somnolent gaze up once more.
"I'm not sure, Rúmil."
The younger took his brother's shoulder in a firm grasp. "Have faith, brother. Things are wrong now, but they shall turn aright again." Squeezing once more, he turned to leave him. "I must go now. There is someone I must speak to."
Gwaeron willed herself to scream his name much sooner this time, imploring him to turn around and defend himself before it was too late, but his steady gaze would not waver from hers. Those blue eyes she had long memorized now went distant as the jagged blade cut into him, the pain she felt blurring the number of times she had seen the horror repeated in her mind.
The woman caught him this time before he collapsed amongst the bodies that already littered the ground, his head falling against her chest. "No." A tremulous breath was all she could manage as he looked up to her with fading vision, his throat constricting as he choked on his own blood.
"I love you." Strangled, he forced out the words from pale lips that dewed with her tears. When those eyes at last clouded over they held no more the brilliance of Orophin's gaze, turned now to become Beriohtarion's dead eyes staring coldly at her.
The woman jolted awake in the tub and quickly smothered her mouth to keep from crying out and waking Véredhiel. Her child was no longer in her arms, though, and the panic that accompanied this realization was soon quelled upon hearing Anauriel's gentle singing in the other room. Tar stooped over the tub from his great height and licked her arm a few times, nudging her as if in concern. Gwaeron let out the breath she hadn't meant to hold and stroked him for a little while until she could quiet herself, wiping at tears with a shaking hand.
At length she felt confident enough to see to the baby and climbed out of the empty bath, closely followed by her obedient hound. Véredhiel was tucked securely into a hold of warm blankets and sleeping soundly on Orophin's bed, chest rising and falling evenly as it should. When Gwaeron moved to find Anauriel she noted with a smile that Tar plopped down at the bedside, no doubt proclaiming himself the child's guardian in her absence.
"I'd expected you to sleep the rest of today, you look exhausted, love." Ana remarked in a caring voice and rose to take hold of the ranger's hands, finding them clammy and chill to touch. "You're hands are cold, are you unwell?"
Pulling away resignedly, Gwaeron shook her head and massaged her stiffened neck and shoulders from an uncomfortable night. "I spent every moment asleep in terrible dreams… nightmares. I am well, only tired."
It didn't take much for Ana to see through the poor excuses her friend offered. "Have something to eat, Gwaeron, it will do you good." The elleth practically forced a piece of fruit into her friend's hand and watched the dour face she made before taking a bite. Gwaeron could taste nothing, feel nothing but the pain, the weeping, and the exhaustion, and it sickened her to obey well-meaning orders. She had never felt so averse to food.
"Though the choice fills her with anguish, Gwaeron holds fast that her actions must Orophin's life." The Lady of the Golden Wood now spoke after having heard the warden's tale of his brother and the mortal ranger. They stood on a dais overlooking and enshrouded by one of her gardens, the light of morning only just peering in through the ivy and trailing flowers that seemed to uphold the structure itself. Galadriel stood as though a beautiful sculpture in its midst while her lord and husband sat nearby, a faithful admirer and caretaker of her light.
The Lord of Lorien turned now to Rúmil and voiced his own thoughts on the matter. "It is clear enough the Valar have meant them for one another. A forced remedy, however, is not something I deem wise, not so soon after the trial has begun." The silver gleamed in his hair as Celeborn turned to his lady-wife, sensing a foreboding from her.
Ancient eyes of a noble-born elf turned now to Rúmil and he discerned warning in his mistress' gaze. "I have felt the distress of this maiden in dreams of terror during the night. You have heard her to have them, Rúmil." Her pointed words were answered in a nod. "The blood of Númenor runs in her veins, granting her this untried nature of foresight. It shows what will come to pass should Gwaeron and Orophin continue in this manner… It shows her his death."
Rúmil's body tensed in alarm and his eyes locked with Galadriel's like lightning. "No. Something has to be done! It cannot be…" Looking pleadingly between his Lord and Lady, the younger elf gestured frantically, frightened now for his brother's fate.
It was Celeborn who spoke first, calming his panicked warrior. "Only wait, Rúmil, hear the matter out. How would this come about if the ranger keeps to her decision, meleth nin?" He inquired as he turned to his wife.
"Gwaeron dreams of a battle, one in which our galadhrim will fight, and her eyes behold Orophin struck by an evil blade. She cannot yet see that it is her rejection of his love that causes him to welcome death, believing that no reason remains to live without her."
"What can be done, then? And what of the elfling, Véredhiel? The babe is a part of this, she must be." Rúmil sought answers and racked his mind for anything of use in what had now become a mortal dilemma.
Galadriel's knowing smile seemed to bring more light into the morning-filled balcony. "The child shall become Orophin's life. Gwaeron's fate will ultimately join her with her ancestors in death, and her thinking is correct to believe Orophin would fade at her end. Their fëar are Valar-bound, this is known to me. His love for the child of their bond shall serve to carry him out of grief and through life again." The Lady moved toward her galadhrim and touched his hand, bringing relief through the contact and speaking in his thoughts. "You are right to say Véredhiel is a part of this, her connection is for a reason."
Rúmil's countenance eased for the moments her voice filled his mind, but as soon as she withdrew he put a hand to his face in contemplation, concern clouding him again. "What must be done now? Orophin holds onto hope by a thread and pushes himself to the threshold, and if Gwaeron has these visions as you say, she will be wan to nothing before a month is complete. Is there nothing we can do to aid them?"
"Support them with strength in these weaknesses that cannot be avoided, their bodies must pay at the will of thought and feeling. When their minds have come to the need of answer, I shall be here to give them."