Hello everyone,

because you are all so awesome, and because I feel bad for all these cliffhangers, here's another chapter. Starting next week, my summer schedule is gonna be more hectic. So with less free time, I will probably have to return to weekly updates like I did for earlier chapters. In the meantime, I will try to move the story along as much as I can.

As always, I want to thank everyone who commented since I posted my last chapter. Blue1258, leeward1992, durinsdaughter2469btw, Cricklewood16, leelee202, and Raider-K. Your kind words have been the best reward I could ever hope for. Thank you!

This one's for you.

Friendly reminder: This story is rated [M] for battles and eventual love scenes.


CHAPTER XVIII

AFTERMATH

"There you are."

Annalyn's words were breathless and low, delivered as a small, tired smile came to grace her mouth. "I was wondering where you were."

Her sword and clothing were stained with black blood, her braid in a disheveled state. But she was alive, standing on her own two feet by the foul creatures that she had slain.

His heart drumming in his chest, Haldir ignored the Orcs' lifeless bodies, his eyes never leaving hers as he marched over to where she stood. He halted. His hand found her arm. As she stared up into his eyes, Haldir briefly wondered what she might see in his. Would she see his relief? The admiration he currently felt for her?

"I did it." A huff of laughter echoed then died out. Annalyn seemed… astounded. But then, her gaze falling to Haldir's blade, her smile faded and her demeanour changed to one of alarm. "There is blood on your sword." No sooner had she said this, than Annalyn looked him up and down, searching for injuries. Seeing none, she breathed a laugh. "You're alright." The relief in her voice was palpable and startling, though not nearly as surprising as what she did next.

Before he knew it, Annalyn had closed the gap, and brought her arms tight around his neck. "Haldir..."

Stunned into inaction, he merely stood there. It had been long since anyone had embraced him in such a manner. In the face of all that he felt, Haldir hesitated, then surprised himself by returning her embrace and actually lifting her off the ground.

So light. Safe.

As she trembled in his arms, he loosed a breath and only tightened his hold.

They stayed like so for several heartbeats, while snowflakes continued their descent, depositing shimmering flecks of white on their hair and clothing.

I should never have left, Haldir chided himself, eyes squeezed shut as he thought about how he might have lost her tonight. But he hadn't lost her. Annalyn was here, alive and unharmed, by her own merits. He set her down, just as Annalyn whispered, "I am sorry."

Perplexed, he frowned and drew back in question.

"I did not see them," she explained. "I should have kept a better watch on—"

"Nay," he cut her off somewhat sternly, but not overly so. "The fault lies not with you. I should not have left. I insisted and…" It was no easy thing to admit. "Truth of the matter is, we should have been spying on that camp together as opposed to separately."

While the trees groaned around them, a hint of mirth gradually emerged on Annalyn's wearied features.

"Look at us," she said, causing him to smile, if only a little.

The lightness remained for a moment or two, but vanished when something suddenly occurred to him. "Are you hurt?" he asked, a look of concern asserting itself as he stepped back to assess her condition.

Blinking, Annalyn sheathed her sword, then looked at her hands, each of her arms. "Let me see. Naught but a cut or two I think." Indeed, the fabric of her sleeve had been torn just above her elbow, the edges stained with red blood. Her blood.

Brows furrowed, Haldir reached for her arm, inspected the wound.

"It is nothing serious," she assured him even as she winced.

"That may be so, but the cut should be cleaned all the same."

His heart-rate slowing to a more relaxed speed, Haldir watched her lower her arm, her gaze settling on the Orcs' lifeless forms.

"Aside from hunting, I never killed anything before tonight." Although her words could have indicated remorse, Haldir saw nothing of the sort in her eyes.

"They deserved to die," she said flatly. He agreed.

"You did well," he told her, and meant it.

As a winter wind swept into the small clearing, Haldir looked to the east, his heart growing heavier with each passing moment. The encampment was out there, somewhere beyond those trees. With all that had occurred tonight, Annalyn had yet to ask about Aldin, had yet to know that he had seen no indication that her cousin was, or had ever been, in that camp.

She needs to know. He knew this. Therefore, he turned to face her.

In all his years serving with the Galadhrim, Haldir had seen many of his brethren fall in battle, the task of delivering the news oft falling to him. It was the one thing he had never gotten used to. And I never should.

Eyes on Annalyn, he readied himself for the pain he was about to inflict, the hope he was about to snuff out.

"What?" she asked nervously, sensing his mood.

His heart hurting for her, Haldir opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, a shout sounded in the distance.

"The Orcs," he realised, glancing out with alarm. "They must have heard."

Turning to her, he saw the blood drain from her face. For an anxious moment, Annalyn simply looked to the forest, her feet rooted on the spot.

"We cannot linger," he told her. When she failed to move, Haldir grasped her hand, took a step backward. "Annalyn, we must go."

Her eyes found his. She was frightened, understandably so.

"Come," he said, and saw her nod.

They fled.