To all who have been reading this story, thank you! To all who have commented so far, words cannot express how much I appreciate it.

Hexzhana, mycarnation, Blue1258, SmallLittleCagedBird, leward1992, durinsdaughter2469btw, Cricklewood16, xXxLaLaxXx, leelee202, AshleyLeigh, LadyConfidential, and WickedGreene13. This one's for you!


CHAPTER XLI

ONE LAST TIME

The lamp by the lounging couch had been kindled, along with the two candles he had set upon the table. Their combined lighting was soft and soothing, bathing the room in a subtle golden glow. Much to her amazement, Haldir had not opened the curtains tonight, perhaps as a means to isolate themselves and forget the cares of the world for a brief moment in time. The white fabric now swayed gently in the breeze, reminding her of lazy ripples upon a lake.

It was peaceful and pleasant, just as she had hoped. For instead of retiring for the night, Haldir had invited Annalyn into his home so they might share the food and wine that had been gifted to them.

At present, he was trying to open said bottle, his perfect brows raised in puzzlement as the cork refused to budge. Not bothering to hide her amusement, Annalyn crossed her ankles beneath her chair, and leaned forth to place her elbow upon the table, her chin coming to rest on her upturned palm. As she watched and waited, her mirth remained, yet she couldn't help but think about this night, pondering its meaning.

Neither of them had verbally defined it, but seeing him now, standing before the closed curtains, strong features lined in candlelight, it seemed that he knew just as well as she did; that this night was something they both needed—their goodbye away from prying eyes—and that after this, even when he returned from the fences, things would be different.

They had to be.

At last, the cork loosened with an echoing pop. Rounding the table, Haldir allowed the wine to breathe before filling each of their glasses. Once he had gained his chair, they toasted to their evening, and started their meal. But as they dined on braised quail and wild mushrooms, Annalyn couldn't help but note the contemplative way he would sometimes stare at her, as if a great question had come into his thoughts. She had first noticed the change when they had left the suspended garden, following the spellbound moment they had shared. Debating whether or not to say anything, Annalyn toyed with her glass, raised it to her mouth.

"The wine pleases you," he stated more than asked.

Swallowing a mouthful, she hummed in affirmation, then leaned back in her chair. As she considered her dining companion, and the smile that had kindled on his mouth, Annalyn decided against voicing her earlier observation, opting for a less invasive topic instead. "I learned something today."

Oh? his eyes seemed to say.

"Regarding you."

Now he seemed intrigued.

"Your brother's wife told me of your little pastime." His eyes narrowed. She raised her glass again. "That you know your way around a smithy."

His full lips curved on one side, his deep blue eyes dotted by candlelight. "Indeed, I dabble in the craft."

"Do you have a specialty? Swords? Knives?"

Having finished his meal, Haldir dabbed at his mouth. "I craft but mere trinkets."

Annalyn highly doubted this, so she challenged him. "Is there a chance I might see your creations?"

Haldir considered her request, and seemed to waver for a moment. "Very well." As he made for his desk, Annalyn followed in his wake, her eyes widening in approval when she beheld the dagger he now held in his hand, the one she had noticed upon her first visit.

"You made this?" She took the proffered blade.

"I enjoy the work. It relaxes me. Yet I fear it is but a pale imitation of true elven craft."

"Nonsense. I would be proud to carry such a blade." As Annalyn turned the dagger over, admiring the way it caught the light, Haldir rounded his desk and started rummaging through a drawer.

Curious, she watched as he walked nearer to her, a beautiful leather sheath in hand. Upon closer inspection, the embossed leaves on the side reminded her of the patterns that were coiled around his bow and the hilt of his sword.

"Did you craft this as well?"

"Nay. I had it made rather." Haldir sought the dagger in her hands. Once he had sheathed the blade, he motioned toward the desk, leaving her rather speechless when he asked her to sit upon the edge.

When she hesitated, pointing to the wooden surface as if to say "truly?", Haldir moved past her to grab his red cloak—that he had previously set upon the desk—and tossed it onto a nearby chair. Then, before she had a chance to do or say aught else, his palms found her hips, and he hoisted her up onto the desk with no effort whatsoever, robbing her of breath as he did so.

Blinking in absolute surprise, Annalyn watched as he took a single step back. "Lift your foot for me?" A bold request, but a gentle one.

Breathless, Annalyn did as he asked, placed her hands on either side of her, and raised her foot until he grasped her booted ankle. With a lowered gaze, Haldir stepped closer and set the sole against the front of his muscular thigh. As her heart quickened, she watched him sheath the dagger into the side of her boot. Then he met her eyes. "How is that?"

Her mouth was hanging open, she realised. Snapping it closed, Annalyn looked to her boot, wriggled her foot up and down. At length, she found her voice again. "That fits quite nicely."

Haldir gave a furtive smile. "Then consider it yours. Should you desire it, of course."

Another tongue-tied pause. "Yes. Absolutely! I should love to have it."

With that, Haldir set her leg back down, and calmly moved away, crossing the room to retrieve his wineglass. As he stood by the table, facing away from her, Annalyn found she already missed his proximity, and the fleeting contact of his hands upon her calf and ankle.

Her chest growing heavy, she regained her feet, and realised that she was staring again. In truth, Annalyn was not used to seeing him without a cloak. His black tunic highlighted his frame in all the right ways—wide shoulders tapering to a strong and toned mid-section. When he turned to face her, her eyes had lowered to his powerful thighs. Blushing, she immediately ceased her ogling and crossed the room to fetch her glass.

"This is nice," Annalyn said, hoping he wouldn't notice how flushed she was. "Tonight, and these little discoveries. In a way, it feels like I am getting to know you. Better than I did before. Does that make sense?"

"It does." Haldir faced her fully. "If I am honest, it is the one thing I regret. There is still much that I wish I knew about you and your life before you came here."

Annalyn felt her throat tighten at that, her voice lowering when she said, "Like what? What do you wish to know?"

Haldir gave it some thought. Ultimately, he sat back down. "Your life on the Westfold. What was it like?"

She, too, regained her chair. "As a child it was wonderful," Annalyn answered. "It was a simple life. Like everyone in the village, we lived in a humble home, yet we never lacked food or warmth. My father was a kind and patient man, a farrier by trade, and my mother…" Warmth surged in her being. "She was loving and spirited. She had a way with horses. I still remember her laugh, and the bread she used to make."

As memories surfaced one by one, Annalyn told him a few stories from her past, like the time she had wandered away from home as a child. "I must have been around seven at the time. I was chasing a butterfly along the river when I came upon this field. The flowers, Haldir… You should have seen them. Entranced, I explored and discovered, until finally I laid down on the grass to stare at the clouds. I was a dreamer back then."

Haldir set his glass upon the table, his posture suggesting genuine interest. "What did you dream of?"

But her eyes narrowed. "You do realise that makes two questions in a row?" Not that she minded. Annalyn returned to her memories. "I was quite young back then. My daydreams were simple, the musings of a girl who was yet untroubled by the world. I sometimes tried to envision myself as a woman grown. I wondered… would I be like my mother? Would I look like her?" Her chest rose and fell on a drawn-out sigh, then she whispered, mostly to herself. "I remember that child."

Resuming her earlier story, Annalyn told him how she had fallen asleep in that field. "A patrol found me at dusk, and brought me back to the village. My mother was so angry." Her shoulders bobbed with soft, giggled laughter. "I shouldn't laugh. Now that I am grown, I know that, had I been in her shoes, I would have been livid."

Amusement shone in Haldir's eyes.

"She and my father, along with the entire village, had looked for me all day! Ah…" Annalyn shook her head, her tone turning slightly pensive. "Forgive me, mama." She breathed a small laugh again, knowing full well that her mother had forgiven her right then and there.

"Your story sounds rather familiar to my ears, for Rúmil was wont to wander away as a child. I daresay you two would have gotten along."

She almost snorted at that. As children perhaps. But certainly not now. He resents me being here, she thought before countering, "I have answered two questions. I believe it should be your turn. It is only fair."

Haldir merely inclined head.

Pleased by his willingness, she clicked her tongue, and tapped a finger against her bottom lip. "But what to ask..."

"Anything you wish," he stated simply, taking her aback.

Eyebrows rising toward her hairline, Annalyn stopped just short of sipping her wine. "Is that so?" Haldir, the intensely private and guarded warden of Lórien, was an open book tonight? Interesting, and somewhat thrilling, too. But most of all, it made her feel incredibly special.

"So I learned of one of your pastimes. There must be more. What else do you like to do when you are not guarding the realm or forging weapons?"

His face grew serious all of a sudden, as if he had realised his blunder. Amused and undeterred, she arched a brow, as if to say, "you said anything I wished". By the way he flexed his jaw, Annalyn felt she knew the reason, and couldn't quite smother her excitement. "A secret, then. You have a secret pastime. Oh, do tell."

"It is not a secret. Not exactly. But it is private."

But at the last, being a man—Elf—of his word, Haldir drained his glass and rose, presumably to grant her request. "I suppose I walked into that one," she heard him say with a long-suffering sigh. When he had reached the bottom of the staircase leading up to his room, Haldir stopped abruptly. "This remains between us," he warned then scaled the first step, where he halted again. "And you must promise not to laugh."

Annalyn tried to appear solemn. "I promise."

When he returned, her gaze went to his hands, and the item he held. Annalyn rose to meet him. "You play music?"

"I learned to play at a young age," he admitted and narrowed the gap so she could see. "Do you like the harp?"

"I have heard tell of harps, but never have I beheld such an instrument." It was beautiful, gold with silver strings. "Would you play for me?"

Haldir bowed his head, then motioned to the lounging couch in an invitation for her to take a seat. As she did so, grabbing her glass as she went, he made his way over to his desk, and sat on the edge of it. Once he had set the instrument upon his lap, he brought his fingers near to the strings and, closing his eyes, began to play.

The music was soft and exquisite, his fingers moving with such precision and rising speed, she could scarce believe it. As he played, Haldir seemed to lose himself in the music, his hair partially curtaining his features as his head tipped forward in concentration.

As she listened, her gaze gravitated to his beautiful face and lingered. Annalyn couldn't help it; she was falling for him all over again.

This Elf was a bundle of contradictions, a beautiful soul wrapped in a fair but heavily guarded exterior. Yet right now, Haldir had lowered most, if not all, of his defences, revealing parts of himself she hadn't known existed.

The music poured forth, stirring her heart and lulling her thoughts. As she drifted, Annalyn gathered her legs beside her, and leaned against the curved section of the lounging couch.

At length, when the music yielded to silence, she watched him set the harp aside.

"That was…" A tranquil sigh and her smile broadened. "Perfection."

"Hardly, but I thank you." His feet carried him over to the table, but when he went to refill his glass, Haldir noticed that the bottle was nearly empty. And so he fetched another one.

"Would you?" Annalyn asked, rising on her elbow and extending her glass.

Haldir inclined his head. "Gladly." His glass now filled, he turned, bottle in hand, and approached. Instead of merely pouring, however, he surprised her by taking a seat on the edge of the lounging couch. As he poured, the wine spilled forth in soft surges. It was the only sound to break the stillness.

When he set the bottle aside, Annalyn couldn't help but note just how close he was sitting, his hip less than a hands-breadth away from her thigh. As heat unexpectedly rose to her cheeks, her chest growing just a tad heavier, she wondered if he would notice the effect he had on her. Torn between wanting him to and hoping he wouldn't, Annalyn nodded in thanks, cleared her throat, and resumed their little game. "I believe it is your turn."

Yet Haldir hesitated, as if he had a question in mind, but did not know if he should ask. His next words explained why. "I heard you singing once. That day…"

By her uncle's cairn.

"The song was one of mourning," he said, "but your voice was fair. I would love to hear you sing again, but a song that brings joy to your heart. If you are of a mind."

"My voice is not so fair." One might have said she was fishing for praise, but Annalyn had been in the city long enough to know that the Elves could sing, with skill unmatched as far as she was concerned.

"To me it is fair," Haldir stated simply.

A heartbeat went by, then another. At length, Annalyn yielded. For him, she thought and gave a faint smile.

At first, she thought to sing a lullaby, one she had favoured as a child. A song that spoke of warm beds by the fire, and valiant fathers who rode around the village to keep the Wolves at bay.

But when she opened her mouth to sing, the hymn that tumbled from her lips was another one altogether. A song of remembrance and tradition that was known to all her people. As for why she had chosen it, Annalyn could not say. Perhaps it kindled her courage. Perhaps it gave her hope. Or perhaps it reminded her of the approaching darkness and what they were all facing. Whatever the reason, she closed her eyes and sang each line in her mother tongue, like so many had done before.

Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,
or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?

The song ended. She reopened her eyes.

Haldir beheld her with a most remarkable look. Annalyn could not define it, save that it moved her, deeply. "I suppose that was not as joyful as you asked."

"It is a fair song," he said, then surprised her by saying its name. "Eorl's Hymn."

"You know it?"

"I first heard it years ago, during a visit to Edoras. The words have stayed with me."

Puzzlement crossed her face. How could he remember the words when he did not know the language? Unless…

"Wait." She sat a bit straighter. "You speak Rohirric?"

His silence only confirmed it.

Her mouth worked, then her eyes widened. "But when we first ventured in the Golden Wood, you never… You misled us." Honestly, she was shocked.

Haldir raised both hands, but his amusement remained. "I did no such thing. Only you made assumptions and never asked whether I knew your language."

Annalyn was so stunned, she couldn't decide whether to be impressed or upset. In the end, she simply shook her head, sighing on a resigned smile. "I suppose. But if you speak it, why are we even bothering with Westron, then?"—switching to her own language—"Why not speak Rohirric?"

"I understand the language," Haldir countered somewhat grudgingly, still using the common tongue. "But the words are difficult to pronounce. I… struggle."

"This embarrasses you." It was not so much a question as a point of observation. When he made no reply, Annalyn felt her features soften. "You should have said something. I would not have laughed."

Haldir seemed to appreciate her words.

"What about your brothers? Do they know my language?" When he shook his head, she prodded further. "What about Westron?"

"They speak no other language than their own."

"Rúmil as well?"

Puzzlement crossed Haldir's face. "Yes, why do you ask?"

"No reason," she lied, recalling how Rúmil had chimed in on a conversation today. He had used the elven-tongue, true. But Ithriel had been addressing Annalyn in Westron at the time. It struck her as strange. Ithriel, it seemed, had taken no notice of it, and neither had Orophin. Given what had happened last night—the tireless efforts to save those injured soldiers—perhaps their thoughts had been elsewhere. Weariness could do that, she supposed.

"Shall we continue?" Haldir asked.

"Another question?"

"I believe it is now your turn."

Delight curved her lips. "Indeed, it is." On a long inhalation, Annalyn reclined against the slanted armrest, the back of her head settling against the grey velvet cushion he kept there. As she weighed her question, her eyes never leaving his face, she felt some of her playfulness ebb away. Haldir hadn't moved, hadn't said anything. But as he waited, his mouth curved ever so slightly, she saw genuine earnestness in his eyes. That, coupled with the wine, made her feel rather bold. She bit her lip.

Should I? Or shouldn't I?

Even after all this time, there was much she yearned to know of him. And though she wanted to learn all she could before they said their final goodbyes, one question stood out amongst the others. It was something she had often wondered about but had never dared to ask. Until now.

"Tell me of her?" A beat went by, then another. Gathering her courage, she met his gaze, her words barely audible when she clarified, "The woman you loved."

Haldir blinked at her chosen question, and for a brief instant, Annalyn feared she might have delved too deep. But then, to her relief, he gave a subtle nod.

"Very well."