Hello everyone,
For those who have been asking, I am doing alright. Feeling better actually. My consult went well, though I am scheduled for another one at the end of the month. I'll know then if I need surgery or not.
As always, I would like to thank all who commented on the last part: leward1992, leelee202, DragnFlye, durinsdaughter2469btw, Blue1258, Raider-K, Rogue's Queen, SmallLittleCagedBird, FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff, Cricklewood16, littlejay2013, Doria Nell, and Hansloch. Thank you x 1000! And thanks to all who have been following the story so far. Your continued interest makes me want to write more.
CHAPTER XXVI
A TURN IN THE WEATHER
Annalyn was waiting for the sun to rise.
Sitting in the grass by their dwindling fire, she had drawn her knees up, both arms looped around them.
Having slept for the first half of the night, she had awoken and taken up the watch so that Haldir could rest for a while. To be honest, she was rather glad, for he had not done so in many days, saying there was no need. But there was a need. Haldir might have appeared indefatigable at times, but even he needed to rest every now and again.
Eyes straying across the glade, Annalyn looked to him as he sat up in that tree—the same tree in which they had talked last night. Unlike then, his features were relaxed, mask-like, his elven eyes lost in a half-waking dream. May it be kind, she silently said to him, and meant it.
A sad little smile on her mouth, Annalyn grabbed a fistful of grass, pulled, and released the brittle stalks in the wind. His words kept coming back to her. "I am old, Annalyn. Very old."
Three thousand years…
So the stories had been true, in part anyway.
Elves were immortal.
Her thoughts still spinning from that revelation, Annalyn found herself staring at him as he slept. On the one hand, he was still Haldir, her sedate and dutiful companion, her friend, yet she saw him differently now, couldn't help it.
The things he must have seen, and all he would see, long after she had gone. It seemed impossible to fathom. It also made her think of her own life, and the temporal nature of it.
How insignificant I must seem to him, she caught herself thinking, but banished the notion just as soon. She was not insignificant to Haldir. Annalyn had seen evidence of that time and again, from his need to keep her safe, to the kind and caring gestures he had often bestowed upon her. And then there was that kiss.
When his lips had moved against hers, however briefly, it had meant something to him. For some reason she could not explain, Annalyn was certain of this, knew he wouldn't have returned the kiss otherwise.
Her chest tightening at the thought, she had to stop herself. It wouldn't do to dwell on such things. And yet she couldn't seem to stop. More fool I.
Last night, following Haldir's revelation, Annalyn had turned to him, saying, "I have laid no expectation upon you. Nor would I." Why would she, when she had vowed never to love in that way again? And so, holding to her crumbling promise, and recognizing his turmoil, Annalyn had even tried to set his mind at ease, speaking the words she had felt he needed to hear. "When I kissed you, I was weary and mournful and immensely thankful that you were there… That is all it needs to be. All it should be."
Nevertheless, as needful as she had deemed these words to be, she had tasted the lie in them the moment they had left her mouth.
With a small shake of her head, Annalyn plucked a stick from the ground, and stoked the low-burning flames before her. Have I lost my mind? Am I truly pining after him? An immortal Elf who had lived for thousands of years, a being of otherworldly grace and experience, far removed from what she was. You're a fool, Annalyn.
Haldir had made it clear last night. "There is a reason why our people are sundered. A reason why you and I…" He had let the sentence trail, but she had perceived his meaning.
Budding feelings or not, there could never be anything between them.
Keeping vigil on their dying campfire, Annalyn tried to envision what it would be like, the union between a mortal woman and an immortal Elf. It would be wholly unfair to him, heartbreaking for them both. No, the rational thing to do was to quell this now. Therefore she would. I have.
Whatever had taken root between them would go no further. One, because she wouldn't let it. And two, because such a story could only end tragically, and she'd had enough of tragedies.
Her thoughts shifting to today's march, Annalyn wondered what would come of their talk, if it would allow them to regain what they'd had before. Hoping for such an outcome, she sat until the sky began to lighten. Ere long Haldir rose, and soon the two set out.
While it was difficult to gauge his mood, his posture did not seem as tense. As Annalyn followed him, matching his pace as best she could, Haldir even spoke to her a few times, pointing out interesting features on the landscape, or simply asking if she needed to rest.
Around midday, while the two were resting atop a wooded hill overlooking the valley, Haldir approached her, a small section of lembas in his hand. When he offered it to her, Annalyn looked up from where she sat. "Is this the last of it?" she asked, suspecting it was.
Evading her question, he merely placed the pastry in her hand, closed her fingers around it. "Eat." Blue eyes briefly connecting with hers, Haldir turned to ponder the land ahead—an answer in itself, she supposed.
Though she felt like declining, preferring he keep the Waybread for himself, Annalyn relented, if only to maintain her strength. For the road was long and tiresome, and the last thing she wanted was to slow them down.
As for the remainder of their journey, they would simply have to improvise. Annalyn had done it before. They might hunt, unless Haldir was opposed to such a thing, for she had nothing to hunt with—though a snare or a trap could be easily improvised. They might also forage. It was late in the season, but there were yet mushrooms in this valley, along with plants with edible roots.
This being a cold and windy day, Annalyn pulled up her hood before tightening the stays at her throat. Once that was done, her eyes fell to her outstretched legs. Look at me. The journey had taken its toll. She was absolutely filthy.
Gaining her feet, Annalyn vigorously swept her palms along the front of her breeches—a pointless endeavour if ever there was one. Giving her cloak a cursory glance, it was clear the garment was faring just as poorly, if not more so.
Since there was nothing else for it, she came to stand by her companion. At her approach, Haldir spoke but kept looking out. "Orcs are still crossing the valley." Following his line of sight, she saw what appeared to be a wide swath of churned mud and flattened grass. The sight brought to mind those awful nights spent hiding from the hordes. It also reminded her of what lay ahead. The dark days of war.
"How long since they were here?" she asked, for Haldir usually had a better sense of these things, could even read tracks from afar.
"My best estimation is three days."
Granted, Annalyn would have preferred a higher number, but three was not bad. At any rate, it was better than two, or one.
Having lingered long enough, the pair ventured forth, maintaining an even pace beneath an increasingly cloudy sky. All told, it was a long march, with much toil. Her legs feeling heavier with every league, Annalyn focused on her purpose, which was to reach Lothlórien before continuing on her own in hopes of warning her people.
If the Orcs were marshalling an army and planning open war, what would stop them from crossing the Limlight and reaching Rohan? A few nights ago, Haldir had shared his suspicion that the creatures were gathering elsewhere as well, in strategic locations throughout Middle-earth. She was inclined to agree with his guess.
Hours passed. Her thoughts remained on the Westfold, on the people who resided there. Did they know? Or would they be caught unaware? For a moment, she saw a terrifying image of what could be. People roused from their sleep by blood-curdling screams. The smell of fire and blood assaulting them as they fled their homes. Too late to mount a proper defense. Too late for anything.
She could even see their faces as they lay dead, and those of the soldiers who might only arrive when there was no one left to save. From their saddles, they would look upon the carnage with sorrow and disbelief, the quiet stamping of hooves the only sound to break the silence.
Not if I can help it.
Turning from such despairing thoughts, Annalyn looked to hope instead. The Rohirrim were brave and highly skilled. Given proper warning—and perhaps they already knew—they would best the Orcs, fighting with heart and valour until all the creatures were purged from their lands.
"I do not favour the look of those clouds." Haldir's observation pulled her to the here and now.
The weather had grown more ominous, it was true. The skies had darkened considerably, and a blustery wind was now sweeping in from the north.
Her cheeks numbed by the cold, Annalyn wrapped her stiff and freezing fingers in the wool of her cloak. By the looks of it, they were in for a substantial amount of rain—that or melting snow. Either way, it was going to be a miserable night.
With evening fast approaching, and not a refuge in sight, the two decided to continue along the valley. With the land being so exposed, finding shelter would prove difficult, if not impossible. Still, they looked as they marched onward, with their hoods pulled up, and their cloaks snapping in the wind.
Though things seemed rather bleak at first, fortune smiled upon them in the end. The unexpected boon came just as the rain began. Cresting over a hill, the two spotted a rocky outcrop in the distance below. Drawing nearer to it, Annalyn noticed that there were several more. Some stood high, others barely jutted from the ground. All had channels of grass in between.
There were trees here as well. Not very many but a few. Gnarled and weathered, they must have been very old.
Heartened by the discovery, Annalyn paused to catch her breath.
"Over here!" Haldir called her attention to him before disappearing between two of the larger formations. No, she soon realised, these were not separate outcrops, but a single formation that curved inward, forming a sheltered recess which was open to the sky.
"The wind," Annalyn remarked as they proceeded between the curving walls of limestone. "We can barely feel it." The grassy space was also larger than one might expect, its breadth comparable to that of a dwelling back on the Westfold.
Save for the pattering of rain, it was surprisingly quiet here. Pivoting on the grass, she scanned the surrounding stone for anything that might protect them from the frigid droplets. A small overhang, or a hollow in the rock. What she found was even better.
"Is that a cave?" Uplifted by this unexpected find, Annalyn gave a breathless laugh, and started for the opening.
"Wait," Haldir cautioned. "Caves are not always empty." Unsheathing his blade, he then crept toward the entrance, and peered into the gloom. "This will do." Motioning for her to join him, he went inside, and she followed.
The space was dry. Blessedly so. It was also more spacious than she had initially thought. Although it was hard to see, Annalyn could make out the smooth walls and floor. The slanted roof was actually high enough to stand. At its highest point, near the far side of the cave, she spied a faint wedge of dark grey light. "There is a cleft in the rock. Mayhap we can make a fire in here."
"Best to make haste, then. If we are to find wood that is yet dry enough."
And so they braved the elements once again, hastening to find suitable deadfalls before the rain rendered them useless. In order to reach the trees, they had to venture beyond the sheltering walls of the rock formation, into the howling wind and ever-increasing rain. By the time they doubled back, their arms burdened with potential firewood, their cloaks were so sodden, they barely flapped in the wind anymore.
Night had descended by then, and the cave was now fully dark. Crouched somewhere to Haldir's right, Annalyn tried in vain to see what he was doing. If the scraping sound was anything to go by, Haldir was using a knife of some sort to shave off narrow slivers of wood.
"You know in all my years of travel," she said. "I have never spent the night in a cave. It is black as pitch in here."
"This moonless night is dark indeed," Haldir replied, his voice echoing against the stone walls. "But soon there will be light."
"Such confidence," Annalyn couldn't help but tease. "But then you must be adept at kindling fires by now, with you being so old and all."
The scraping stopped. She smirked into the dark. It was long since she had jested thusly. Blind as she currently was, Annalyn suspected he might be smiling. When next he spoke, she felt certain that he was.
"I have had ample practice, it is true."
Glad for the returning ease between them, Annalyn wrapped her arms around herself, and waited. It was cold in the cave, and the rain had seeped into her clothes. Eager for warmth and light, she gauged his progress by listening. The sound of snapping branches told her it wouldn't be long now.
Thinking he would soon need her tinderbox, Annalyn left Haldir's side and carefully made her way to where she had left her satchel. It wasn't so dark near the mouth of the cave. Bending at the waist, she retrieved her tinderbox.
Guided by the rustling sound of branches, Annalyn blindly made her way to Haldir. Uncertain of his exact location, she was about to ask him where he was when she tripped on something. With a yelp, she tumbled forward and actually rolled over his crouched form. Her tinderbox clattered to the ground somewhere. Desperate to stop her fall, she reached out to grab something, anything.
"Naeg!" Haldir hissed in surprise or pain. But then he caught her.
Wide-eyed and panting, Annalyn found herself on her back, her upper body supported by strong arms. Stunned into inaction, she blinked a few times. Haldir held her still.
"Did I hurt you?" she asked, recalling his hissing cry. "Please tell me I did not injure your back."
His rapid breaths mingled with hers. "You did no such thing."
Reassured, Annalyn should have apologized anyway. She should have risen and thanked him for cushioning her fall. Instead, all she did was stare. Silhouetted by the cave entrance, Haldir's shadowed features were mere inches from her own, his hair curtaining both their faces.
As they lingered in this fashion, her initial shock morphed into something else, as though a spell had been cast upon her. Annalyn swallowed thickly. His arms were rock solid, his body warm against the surrounding cold. Good gracious he smelled nice—even now, after all this time. It was most unfair. It was also intoxicating. She breathed in deep. So very nice.
The moment hung there. Neither of them moved. Annalyn's left hand gripped his tunic, while the other was splayed over his heart. How it pounded, its rhythm a near perfect match to hers.
"Annalyn…" Haldir's breath caressed her face, his proximity making her ache. She couldn't see very well. Still, her gaze fell to where his mouth would be.
"Annalyn," he said again, in question this time.
"Yes?" she managed to breathe in turn.
There was a pause, and then, "Would you be so kind as to release my hair?"
Realising that she had grasped more than just his tunic, Annalyn winced in embarrassment, and loosened her hold. Thinking it was time to extricate herself from the inviting circle of his arms, she sat up, and Haldir withdrew.
"Sorry," she whispered and laughed.
"You need not be sorry. Are you hurt?"
She could have easily landed on her face, smashing her nose and teeth in the process, but she hadn't thanks to him. Knowing his eyesight was better than hers, Annalyn shook her head no.
Drawing her knees closer to her body, she sat alongside him as he resumed his task. At long last, a spark briefly flashed into being. A moment later, a tiny flame took hold.
When light and warmth finally flooded the cave, Annalyn looked to her companion, elation brightening her features. For his part, Haldir simply regarded her, much like he had in the past, before things became complicated. The corner of his mouth was pulled just so, a hint of warmth clearly visible as he held her gaze.
Though most welcome, the way he kept looking at her…
"What?" The word tumbled from her lips before she realised, but her smile remained.
Silence followed, just for a beat. "It has been many days since your eyes have shone thusly," he remarked at last. "It heartens me to see it."
Then, as if remembering the unspoken boundary between them, Haldir looked to the fire, added wood to it. But though he was still cautious around her, the wall he had built around himself was not so high anymore.
As the fire crackled softly, Annalyn watched him for a beat longer. For the first time in many days she was thankful. Thankful for the fire and shelter and the returning ease between them. Holding on to the latter, she kept stealing glances at Haldir. Firelight danced upon his enigmatic features, throwing his shadowy outline on the wall. It was pleasant, peaceful, a feeling she had sorely missed.
"You should rest," he said at length, regaining his feet. "I shall stand watch this night."
While she would have enjoyed the quiet comfort of his company, Annalyn understood why he could not remain by the fire with her, and his reasons were twofold. The first stemmed from the lingering threat of Orcs. The second reason, as compelling as the first, was the need to maintain an adequate distance. Both were well-founded. Both were necessary. Both made her sigh wistfully, albeit for different reasons.
As hurt and confused as she had been yesterday, Annalyn understood now, a great deal of it at least; from his sudden retreat, to his overall prudence whenever she was near, even the sadness in his eyes. What she had initially thought to be hurtful and dismissive behaviour had not been intended as such. For in his own unique way, Haldir was shielding them both from future hurt. His eyes had said as much last night.
As he came to stand by the entrance, head slightly bowed as he listened for anything that might be lurking beyond their hidden refuge, Annalyn decided to remove her still sodden cloak. Laying it on the cave floor, she then shifted her focus to her hair. Knowing it would never dry while gathered in a braid, she removed the leather tie that kept it bound, and gently loosened the strands.
It was while finger combing her tresses that Annalyn first became aware of it. Haldir's gaze. No sooner had she glanced up than he looked away of course. But she had seen and—wise or not—her heart responded.
It was imprudent and pointless and unjust. Yet here she was, secretly nurturing a growing affection for him, in defiance of her promise, even knowing it could never be.
* Naeg! – "Ouch!"
