Well this was a pretty crummy week. Because of complications from a surgery I had last fall, I've been put on sick leave until my consultation with a surgeon next week. So to read all of your comments on the last chapter really cheered me up. I even read a few while I was between tests at the hospital. Words cannot express how amazing it's been to see the same names (and new ones) pop up in my comment feed. It means a lot. With that said, a heartfelt shout-out goes to durinsdaughter2469btw, leelee202, Rogue's Queen, AshleyLeigh, Cricklewood16, leeward1992, SmallLittleCagedBird, Blue1258, FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff, and Auriene for commenting on the last chapter. You guys are the best! This next one's for you.
Also, thanks to all who have been reading or following the story. I am both humbled and thrilled at your continued interest.
Kindest regards,
CygnusRift
CHAPTER XXIII
SHUTTERED HEART
Annalyn sat in a mist-filled plain, a small fire burning by her feet. Save for the occasional spark and crackle, a thick and oppressive silence permeated the air.
Disquieted, she tightened her cloak around her frame, her eyes narrowing at the movement she perceived in the distance. As the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, Annalyn peered beyond the distorted whirls of smoke, into the mist, until shapes gradually came into view. People. Cloaked figures. Four in all.
Annalyn gained her feet. "Who goes there?" she called out, her fingers curling around the hilt of her sword.
No one spoke. Instead, the figures kept coming closer, until one by one, they withdrew their hoods in a reveal so shocking, it knocked the air from her lungs. "You…" Her breath trembled. "I know your faces…"
Her mother. Her father. Aldin, and her uncle Feran.
Slowing in their steps, her loved-ones halted and beheld her.
Their wistful smiles were kind but sad. As they stood there, mouthing words she could not hear, other figures came forward, baring their faces as they slowly emerged from the gloom. Both of her grandfathers, her grandmothers, her aunt. A few neighbours. Two of her childhood friends. People she had known back on the Westfold.
"Dead," she said in a failing voice. "You all died."
The mist thinned out for a moment, revealing large, angular shadows. Houses, she realised, with thatched roofs. Home.
Fearful yet entranced, Annalyn took a step forward. But no sooner had she done so than her loved-ones disappeared, swallowed by the mist once more. Although there was no wind, the fire near her feet guttered then went out altogether. Alone, she hesitated only long enough to summon her courage. With slow and steady steps, Annalyn left the smoking remnants behind. As more fog rolled in, she walked forth, looked all around, and called to her kin. To anyone who might be out there.
Mist.
Silence.
Even the houses were gone.
A dreadful chill seeped into her being, along with a profound and terrible sense of loneliness, one that bordered on despair.
Seeing no one, she turned this way and that. But she wasn't alone, for a whisper reached her just then, faint and echoing, "Annalyn…"
Her eyes flew open, her heart thundering with such force, she feared her chest would burst open. As her fingers clutched the front of her tunic, she came to full awakeness, and the images scurried at the back of her mind, leaving her with the feeling one gets after a troubling dream.
A raven's cries resounded into camp, the guttural croaks severing the predawn stillness.
In an attempt at getting her frantic heart to slow, Annalyn rolled onto her back, blinked a few times. It was but a dream, she reminded herself. A nightmare, nothing more.
Hands rising to rub her forehead, Annalyn tried to make sense of it. The dream was vague and fading. Only fragments remained. As hazy as her recollections were, however, Annalyn was fairly certain she'd had the same dream before, shortly after fleeing the Orcs' encampment.
Loss and grief could do that, she supposed. And she'd certainly had her fair share of it.
Sorrow was her companion now. She would have to bear it, on this day and the next, and the one after that. For the rest of her life really, though the passage of time would likely lessen some of its weight.
Until then, she would have to keep going. Pushing her self-pity to the side, Annalyn rubbed the sleep from her face, and allowed her arms to fall on either side of her head. Through the branches, she could see that the sky was a cloudless gradient of dark blues and purples, with a thickening band of pink in the east. Day would break soon.
A soft crackle echoed in the stillness, drawing her eyes. The fire was still going, the last of the logs now crumbling as they burned. If the thick circle of ash was any indication, she guessed that Haldir had fed the flames while she had slept. Touched by the thought, Annalyn propped herself on her elbow and looked in vain for her companion.
Thinking he must have widened the periphery of his patrol, she sat up the rest of the way, but lingered by the fire. In truth, her thoughts were now fixed onto the previous night, on her emotional catharsis, and the unexpected moment that had ensued.
A part of her still couldn't believe she had kissed Haldir, on the lips no less. But she had, and for a breathless moment, he had kissed her, too.
Why? Why did I do such a thing? By the sudden heat in her cheeks, Annalyn knew she was blushing. "I should know better," she whispered, half-wanting to kick herself.
After all she had gone through this past year and a half, Annalyn had made a promise: no more weakness, no more entanglements, for her heart had learned a painful lesson, and she was done with complications.
And yet, even with her promise, newfound emotions were now warring within her being, filling her head with such turmoil, it was hard to know how to feel.
Haldir… Her features softened somewhat. Without realising, her fingertips had strayed to her bottom lip, where they now ghosted along a barely-there smile. It might have been foolish on her part, silly even, but the kiss was repeating in her mind. Even now, Annalyn recalled how his mouth had felt against her own, how his closeness had sparked a sudden yearning from deep within. She had not expected that. Nor did she expect the little flutters she was feeling now.
With an embarrassed shake of her head, Annalyn sighed and cursed her wayward musings. It had been a good while since she had allowed herself to harbour such thoughts, since her heart had felt anything close to this.
But what did she feel exactly? Had she kissed him as a means to escape her grief, or had she done so at the behest of her heart? Annalyn felt rather certain it was the former. But what if it was both?
It cannot be both. It should not be both. But thinking the words did not necessarily make them true.
The sun broke over the horizon, spilling soft light into the surrounding forest. Her thoughts in a jumble, Annalyn reached for her satchel. After making certain that all of her things were safely tucked away, she swept her gaze all around their encampment, before gaining her feet and making for the woods.
Where is he?
"I am here." The words floated from above, making her look up.
Haldir was sitting high up in a tree, on a large tree-limb overlooking the camp. His fair hair and face were partially obscured by his hood, the grey of his cloak all but melting against the pale sky beyond.
"Were you up there all along?" Her startled query sounded more breathless than she liked.
In lieu of answering, Haldir grabbed his bow and made his way down. Her face tipped upward, Annalyn followed his progress until his feet met the ground, no more than an arm's length away from her. When he spun around to face her, and drew back his hood, their eyes held, but neither of them spoke.
Her heart stirring at the sight of him, Annalyn simply stood there, her eyes mapping his beautiful face—for Haldir was indeed very beautiful. Mind your thoughts, she admonished herself, then opened her mouth to speak. But words eluded her at first. In the end, she settled for, "I thought you had gone, that you might have seen something."
"Nay," he stated simply. "I made several passes throughout the night, but all was quiet." His voice sounded different somehow, more formal—or was it aloof? Annalyn knew not what to make of it.
Silence asserted itself. What passed between them in those moments, Annalyn could not say. But as Haldir stood there, something flickered in his gaze. Regret, she thought, and… sadness?
Why would he be sad?
Before she could understand his demeanour, or ask him about it, Haldir lowered his head for a moment. When his eyes found hers again, she saw that he had shuttered his emotions, his features more guarded than she had ever seen them.
"We should make haste," Haldir declared, severing the moment by walking away. When he moved to extinguish the fire, Annalyn followed him with her eyes, her features falling a little in spite of herself.
"Lothlórien is still many leagues away," he was saying, his back to her as he poured water over the flames.
There could be no doubt, Haldir was avoiding her. Considering her emotions, how muddled they were, Annalyn should have been glad of it, relieved even—for she was not yet ready to speak of last night. She wasn't glad, though. Nor was she relieved.
Just what were you hoping for? she asked herself.
Hoping to mask her embarrassment, Annalyn schooled her features into a detached expression, slung her pack over her shoulder, and excused herself to get ready for the long march ahead.
Several paces later, upon reaching the river's edge, she glanced over her shoulder, and considered her companion from afar. Haldir was ill at ease, she could tell. And though his thoughts were unknown to her, the cause of his discomfiture was not difficult to guess. Me…
