Hey everyone,

I'm sorry I took so long. My muse was being stupid, and I went through four different versions of this chapter before I was finally happy with it. Gosh, I hope it reads okay.

As always, I wish to thank all who have been reading this story so far. To my reviewers: your feedback and words of encouragement have been the most rewarding part of this experience. Not only that, but you have been the best motivators a fanfic writer could hope for. MotherAiya, GaaraSandNin, durinsdaughter2469btw, leelee202, Doria Nell, Cricklewood16, SmallLittleCagedBird, Wickedgreene13, fantasticferret, xXxLaLaxXx, leward1992, starrat, Blue1258, mycarnation, Erinnichole1560, HaldirLove, Tobiramamara, SarahELupin, LadyConfidential, Rogue's Queen, blasttyrant, Ruiniel, and AZNQUEEN001… this chapter is for you! Xox

Side note: If this story had a soundtrack, the musical score for this chapter would be "Seaside Epilogue" by Jane Antonia Cornish. I have it on one of my playlists. And one night, while I was struggling to figure out this chapter, it started playing, and I paused to listen to it. That's when the scene unfurled in my mind. Honestly, I don't know what I would do without music lol.

Oh, and one last thing. Because of time constraints, I haven't gotten around to replying to your latest reviews yet. Though I'm hoping I'll be able to. In the comments, someone asked how much time has passed between the start of the story and the current scene. Because the opening scene was set in autumn, and they are now at the height of winter, I would say roughly three months. Sorry it's not specific. I used to keep a detailed timeline, but I've neglected it over these past several chapters. Oops lol.


CHAPTER L

A TRUTH LAID BARE

The air was incredibly tranquil this night. All around, the leaves were still. With most everyone gathered at the feast, Haldir and Annalyn had chosen to slip away, and were now walking across the city, their hands linked between them. Above the great mallorn trees, the moonless sky was cloudless, bedecked with stars. A perfect Midwinter night. By now, the music from the festival had faded somewhat behind them. Same for the clear and merry voices of the Elves.

At present, the loudest sound was that of Annalyn's shoes, a rhythmic thudding of heels on wood. Coming to a halt, she bent at the waist, her hand reaching for her left foot while the other remained nestled in the cradle of his palm.

While his thumb traced a loving arc over her knuckles, Haldir watched her with fondness, his smile broadening as she removed one shoe, then the other.

How women could stand wearing such things was beyond his understanding. Some, like Ithriel, claimed they could be as comfortable as a worn pair of boots, and perhaps that was true. But these shoes had not been made for Annalyn. They were much too narrow for her feet. And yet she had worn them all night, enduring the discomfort not to dazzle, but rather to blend in. It spoke of her nature, he supposed. Proud and stubborn, yes. But not vain.

Now that they were well away from the feast, her sensible side had finally asserted itself, and she had freed her feet from their bejeweled confines. Haldir was happy to see it. After all, why should she suffer needlessly when she was already beautiful, and always would be in his eyes?

With her slippers now dangling from her fingers, Annalyn straightened, threw her head back in relief, and proclaimed, "Now I will walk without shoes." Her laughter caressed his eardrums, filling his heart with gladness. They were walking again. Soon they left the suspended pathways, choosing to wander the green avenues instead.

The grass beneath her feet would be soft, he knew.

"Judging by those stars up there," Annalyn began at length, and seemed to be walking even closer. "I would say we were headed east and south. Where are you leading me exactly? Unless we are choosing paths at random," she added as an afterthought.

"Oh, I am leading you with intent."

"Intent?" The arch of her brow told him she was intrigued.

"This way," was all he said.

Caras Galadhon was vast, with varying features and backdrops, both natural and crafted. Some parts of the city were more populated than others. Some parts were not populated at all. In some areas, true wilderness had been allowed to flourish. Pockets of nature, lovely and untamed.

With one such destination in mind, Haldir led her toward a wild collection of yew trees and cedars, with lofty pines growing here and there. Because these were much smaller than the surrounding mallyrn, it gave the illusion of beholding a different forest altogether.

"What's in there?" Annalyn asked as they paused where the grass ended and the wilderness began. "Should I don my shoes again?"

"You may leave your shoes. But fear not, I will spare your feet." Sensing her confusion, Haldir voiced her remaining options. "In my arms or on my back?"

Annalyn blinked, and then she laughed. "You wish to carry me in there?"

"It is either that or you wear your shoes." He cut a dubious look toward her slippers. She soon did the same.

In the end, it proved to be an easy choice. "Your back it is." Setting her shoes aside, Annalyn made to climb on, but hesitated as the long hem of her dress gave her pause. "How should we do this?"

The dress complicated things, it was true. Haldir pursed his lips, then thought of a better idea.

One moment, Annalyn was standing at his back, one hand on his arm as she debated how to climb on. The next Haldir turned and she was being lifted, squealing as he banded the upper portion of her legs in one arm. Gasping, Annalyn loosed a giggle, and braced both of her hands on his shoulder.

"You dare carry me like a sac of grain?" Her body shook with laughter. Then it was his turn to laugh. A full and throaty laugh, the likes of which he had not experienced in a very long time.

"You are still upright, are you not?" Haldir tilted his face to meet her eyes, bright and beautiful they were.

Their laughter soon faded. They shared a smile.

"Well, there is that," she said, her voice lowering to a murmur.

Ah, but he was enjoying this. Despite his long years, Haldir felt like a young ellon again.

Mindful of the surrounding branches, he carried her southward, into the night-clad woods.

"This is different," Annalyn noted after a time, holding herself upright as she swept a fascinated gaze all around. "Are we even in Lothlórien?"

Instead of silver and gold, the two were now surrounded by dark evergreens. Strong and vibrant, they stood like proud sentinels. In addition to the view, the smells were different also, for the air was redolent with cedar, with hints of pine here and there. Because there were no lamps in these parts, their surroundings were bathed in nothing but starlight. As he carried her further into the woods, Haldir found he had to focus on his surroundings, or at least try to. Annalyn's proximity was distracting. The same for the thinness of her dress beneath his palm.

"I hear water," Annalyn said, her words carrying him to another time. Indeed, she had spoken these exact words the day he had first espied her through the trees, when her company had been journeying toward the lively stream that the Elves named Nimrodel.

"There is a stream over to your right," he explained. But this one was much smaller than Nimrodel. "It issues from a spring-fed pool up ahead."

He felt her gaze on him. "You are taking me to see a pool?"

"Yes and no."

Even without looking, Haldir knew she was shaking her head. Mirthfully, she said, "Elves and their riddles."

And so he walked onward. They were almost there now, the display in question already visible to his elven eyes.

Braced on his shoulder, Annalyn twisted her body to see up ahead. When she finally saw it, he could practically feel the awe in her being. In the stillness of night, she drew in a breath.

Moments later, he was setting her down on a patch of grass that overlooked the hidden pool. Smooth and clear as glass, it lay before a backdrop of shadowy cypress trees. Her eyes, however, paid little heed to the water. Instead, Annalyn was looking up, her mouth agape as she beheld the thousands of fireflies that were swooping and flashing before them.

"Sweet Mearas… How is this possible?"

Instead of flying every which way between the surrounding trees, the fireflies kept to an area no larger than the pool above which they flew. The effect was lofty and spectacular, for the insects formed a glowing column of light, as straight and as high as the bole of a mallorn.

"You must have sensed it by now," Haldir began, "the hidden power in Lothlórien. Benevolent and pure, this power flows in much the same way as water does. While it moves over everything, preserving and heightening the beauty of our realm, it eddies in some places."

With one hand over her heart, Annalyn took a few steps forward, her upturned features mesmerised. Coming to stand by her right shoulder, Haldir bent his gaze upon her. She might not know it, but her skin and the silver-white of her dress reflected minute traces of light.

Quietly, he said, "If you close your eyes and breathe in deep, you will feel it. The power thrums in this place." As Annalyn did just that, Haldir watched her still. "The fireflies are drawn to it," he stated at last. But his eyes were drawn only to her.

Along with fireflies, there were nightingales here, their sleepy songs carrying over the trickle of water.

Annalyn opened her eyes again. "I could watch this all night." No sooner had she said this, than her hand found his own. Whether she squeezed first or he did, Haldir did not know.

Taking a moment to enjoy their surroundings, he swept a gaze over the mirror-like pool, admiring the way it reflected the shimmering column above. Since Annalyn seemed to be in no hurry to leave, he released her hand, drawing a curious gaze as he shrugged out of his formal over-coat.

"Here," he told her as he laid the garment upon the ground. "For you to sit on."

Thus they settled upon the grass.

After a long silence, broken only by the sounds of nature, Annalyn spoke without looking at him. "I've missed you these past twelve days." Her chin lowered, colour now staining her cheeks. "Honestly, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Moved by her quiet confession, Haldir closed his eyes for a moment. "You occupied my thoughts as well." He meant it. Night and day, he had carried her with him. He always would. For Annalyn had found her way into his heart. No matter where they went from here, she was his love, his chosen. He knew that now.

But did she know of their bond? Could she sense it?

His intuition told him she was unaware. But then Annalyn was mortal. And as far as he knew, the concept of soul bonds was foreign to her people. His thoughts shifting to their future, he couldn't help but wonder what she would think when she finally learned of it. Should he tell her now? Or should he wait a little? Would the notion of soul bonds frighten her? Would it be too much too soon?

After all, they had barely begun this newest chapter, and yet here he was… already lost. Craving the comfort of her closeness, Haldir reached out and touched her face. As he caressed her jaw-line, she leaned into him, and he pondered what to do.

The last thing he wanted was to overwhelm her and frighten her away. To be sure, his words and their timing would have to be chosen with great care.

"So what we shared on that staircase…" Her words drew him out of his thoughts. After a moment, Annalyn looked sidelong at him. "You harbour no regrets, then?"

"None." He didn't even have to think on it. His reply just tumbled out. Hoping to convey his earnestness, Haldir reached for her hand. Raising it to his mouth, he laid a kiss upon her knuckles, then placed her palm over his heart. "When I turned back and scaled those steps… When I took you in my arms, I meant it."

The curve of her mouth reassured him. But then his brows creased in a troubled frown. "Although I should warn you, I am somewhat out of practice with such things." He who had been alone for so long, his years of courting Nethrien so far removed he was unsure how to proceed. It was a strange dichotomy—being seasoned and experienced in many ways, yet wholly untried in others. It was a precarious balance. And yet it was wonderful, too.

"Such things?" Annalyn prodded with a smile

Gathering his courage, Haldir cleared his throat, and lowered her hand. "This. What we are doing."

"Which is?" The cautious hope on her face made it clear that she already knew the answer but desperately needed for him to say it.

"I cannot speak for you, but for my part…" Haldir took a moment, hoping to calm the wild beating of his heart. "I am courting you." Her breath caught at that. He heard it. Then quietly, cautiously, he asked, "Is it your wish that I do so?"

Seemingly moved by his words, Annalyn lowered her eyelids for a moment. In the end, her answer came by way of a nod, as subtle as it was gentle.

His heart swelling at the sight, Haldir drew her toward him. As her arms snaked around his torso, her face nestling in the crook of his neck, he looked skyward and thanked whatever powers had led her to him, and he to her—not once, but twice. As far as chance went, it defied belief. But then who was he to question fate?

How long they sat, Haldir could not be certain.

Without breaking away, Annalyn spoke again. "You made me feel special tonight, out there in front of everyone." Now she drew back. "Th—"

His eyes widened. She was going to thank him? Nay. He would have none of that.

"I nearly fell to my knees when I saw you," he cut in fervently before her thanks could tumbled from her mouth. "You must never doubt this: none were more blessed than I this night." It was no mere flattery either; Haldir meant every word. "I was the most fortunate male in that entire hall, and most proud to have you on my arm." You mean the world to me, Annalyn.

She blushed at that, but made no reply. While Annalyn had strength in her character, and could certainly hold her own with him, there was a vulnerability to her tonight, the likes of which he had not seen in her until now. It gave him pause and made him wonder if it had anything to do with the hurt she had felt the other night, when she had climbed up to his room, bravely offering herself to him only to be denied in the end.

Before he could broach this most difficult topic, Annalyn turned to look at the fireflies again. He wished he knew what she was thinking.

"You once told me that Lothlórien means the 'land of blossoms dreaming'." Her mouth curved a little. "This place really is a dream. Though I suppose it should come as no surprise. Your people seem intimately connected to the Powers of the world. I admit, Elves oft strike me as otherworldly." Embarrassment crept onto her features. "Even you."

In the ensuing silence, Haldir wondered if Annalyn felt unworthy. The notion that she might see him as this untouchable being did not sit well with him. His brows pinched in a sudden frown, he told her, "We are not so far removed, you and I. We are both Children of Ilúvatar, closer in kinship than all other creatures in this world. You are not beneath me, Annalyn."

If anything, it was he who felt unworthy. He had wounded her more than once these past few months—especially once their feelings had begun to change—first by pushing her away, then by holding her at arm's length. And then there was the other night.

Haldir's regret was undying. The memory pained and shamed him still.

"I know," she said, with newfound confidence on her face.

But then, before he could say anything, Annalyn winced, reaching behind her head as she huffed a laugh. "These hairpins. They're either pulling or digging." Her breath hissed as she struggled to pull one free.

"Here. I will help you." Haldir shifted. "Sit closer to me."

Seemingly glad for the help, Annalyn settled between his legs, her back to him.

As he found and removed each pin, Haldir worked to loosen the intricate twist of braids. When they finally unfurled, he ran his fingers through the plaited strands, releasing her hair one braid at a time. With careful motions, he removed the decorative silver thread that she had woven in the thinnest braid, and set it aside.

Once her tresses were freed from their confines, Haldir ran his fingers through the heavy curtain, loving the way her hair fell over her shoulders and down her back. When his fingertips found the angry spot just above the nape of her neck, her head tipped forward, and she all but moaned.

"Your hands are magic." Melting beneath his touch, Annalyn gave a soft hum, then she hissed again, in relaxation this time.

As they sat there, Haldir drifted on her heart sounds, a gentle lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub that overlapped the beating of his own heart.

Content, that's what he was.

"That feels nice," she said in a voice both sultry and low.

Haldir swallowed hard, but kept on going. Sensing she would enjoy it, he soon turned his attention to the muscles in her shoulders, in her neck. To his delight, she melted even more.

At length, Annalyn turned her face to catch his eyes. Her mouth was pulled in a gentle smile, her eyes alight when she asked, "Do you think I could…" Quietly enthused, she chewed her lip for a moment, then shifted on her knees until she was facing him. "I have never seen you without braids. Would it be alright if I…" She waited in answer, her hand now hovering near the small plait by his ear.

Haldir leaned toward her fingers, inviting her to do as she would. With quiet excitement in her eyes, Annalyn released this first braid before moving to its twin on the other side of his head. Seemingly awed by what she saw, she ran her fingers over the strands. "When I loosen my hair at night," she began, "my hair usually retains the waves of my braid. But you… Your hair is as straight as can be." Falling silent once more, Annalyn rose on her knees so she could reach behind his head. Moments later, the top portion of his hair fell freely, and she ran her fingers through it. "I like this. You look beautiful this way."

When she swept his hair back, his eyes closed at her touch. Before long, Annalyn was massaging his scalp, her fingers moving in slow, circular patterns. His left hand stationed at her hip, he allowed his head to fall forward, his brow coming to rest on her shoulder. Now it was his turn to sigh.

"Haldir…" The huskiness of her voice enticed him. Like a moth to a flame, he looked into her eyes, and what he saw there, in those hazel depths, prompted him to slowly reach for her wrists and lower her hands. In that moment, no words were spoken. With a gentle pull, Haldir guided her to sit upon his lap.

As her arms laced around his neck, her legs off to one side, their gazes held. Softly, he asked, "May I kiss you, firiel?"

Her throat bobbed. After a beat, she said, "I would be terribly disappointed if you didn't."

Their kiss was soft and lingering. Long overdue. Ah, but he loved her mouth, the sweetness of her lips and that of her tongue. For several long moments, both were content to remain as they were. But as time went by, the air thickened, the mood turning syrupy as their kiss deepened into a slow mating of mouths.

As the ends of her sleeves slid and gathered at her elbows, Haldir stroked her forearms, felt her skin rise in gooseflesh. Before long, Annalyn moved. Placing a hand upon his shoulder, she adjusted the skirt of her dress and actually straddled him. By then his blood had already quickened, but now it heated even more. Within an inch of losing his mind, Haldir broke the kiss, then eased away just enough to lower his gaze, to see.

Though the view was hidden by the flowing skirt of her dress, her bare legs were now hugging his outer thighs. Just knowing this…

He kissed her again—he had to—for her boldness had ignited an inferno, the mood as searing as a red-hot billet of steel.

It spoke of the depth of his love for her, for unwed Elves were seldom swayed by the desires of their bodies. Patient and cautious, they could take extraordinary amounts of time just to decide they loved another, and even longer before revealing their feelings.

But time was a luxury they did not have, for Annalyn was mortal. Moreover, she would be leaving in three days—forever or for a few months, he did not yet know. Casting the uncertain future from his mind, Haldir chose to focus on the present instead, on the expressive and passionate woman whose velvet tongue now tangled with his own.

Bewitched by the little sighs she gave, he cupped her face with both hands, and sought to convey his devotion. Annalyn was his life. His torment. Had she any idea how cherished and irreplaceable she was?

"You have no idea, do you?" he breathed against her mouth.

"No idea of what?" Her body trembled. Perhaps his did, too.

Because his head was spinning, Haldir sought to catch his breath. As he held to her, his brow coming to rest against hers, he picked up the thread again. "Of how exquisite you are. Of how dear you are to me. Of how much I…" He trailed off. It wasn't so much a fear of saying it as opposed to the state he was in.

Haldir was overwhelmed, his love for her as wild as it was dizzying. Nothing would ever change that. Nothing ever could. She owns me.

Before Annalyn had stumbled into his life—before he had lost his heart to her—Haldir had never known, never fathomed, that it could be this way. That he could love a woman so deeply and completely. But now that he had found such a love, he felt more alive than he had in a very long time.

As they breathed the same air, Annalyn kissed his cheek, then embraced him. "I love you." The joy in her words, spoken softly by his neck, reached into the very heart of him. "So much."

His chest ready to burst, Haldir tilted his head back and loosed a breathy laugh, one that was rooted in exultation and gratitude. "Ah, meleth nîn."

Guiding her mouth back to his, he envisioned himself with her, lying skin to skin as he explored the plains of her body and kissed her all over. Such a future was indeed possible. Given how things were going now, it even seemed likely.

If she knew my thoughts, he mused and watched her through his lashes. If she knew the hurried leaps my heart and mind are taking, she would think me mad. Perhaps he was.

Indeed, his thoughts were racing away from him, envisioning scenarios that weren't even in discussion yet. He needed to breathe, to take things down a notch. But a mortal had conquered his immortal heart, and now time was his enemy.

If Annalyn's feelings mirrored his own, if she was as lost as he was, how long would it be before they made the move? If they made such a move.

If a wedded life lay in their future, would they follow elven custom, waiting a full year between their betrothal and the actual ceremony? Four seasons lost and wasted. Given the finite nature of Annalyn's life, he found the idea distressing.

Perhaps they would do away with tradition, then. His fae almost wept at the thought.

Indeed, it was at all times lawful for Elves to marry without ceremony or witness—for the act of bodily union achieved the marriage bond. Would she ever wish for this?

Though he gave no outward indication of it, Haldir was growing annoyed with himself. His thoughts were barreling ahead. Nothing is decided. You cannot be certain of what she wants. Not until they had an open and frank discussion. And right now, few words were being spoken, for their mouths were otherwise occupied.

As they held to one another, their lips parted only to fuse again.

Caught in a freefall, Haldir gave in to his mind once more. Behind his closed lids, he saw a vision of "what might be". Annalyn clad in a nightdress, her features loving and kind. In the vision, she was leaning toward him while he sat at his desk. As her fingers ghosted along his cheek, the kiss she bestowed upon him was gentle. "Do not be long," he heard her say before withdrawing up the stairs, to his bedroom—their bedroom. Oh, how he yearned for such a life.

The feel of her skin brought him back to the moment, and he soon realised that his hands had ventured beneath her dress, and were now skimming her bare skin, from ankle to knee, then higher still. Of course, he had touched her legs before, but Annalyn had always worn breeches. Not this time. The warmth of her bare thighs was new to him, more than enough to drive him wild.

"Haldir." The way she said his name… Such want.

Driven by need—his and hers—he wound a possessive touch up along her thighs. When his palm met the thin fabric of her smallclothes, Haldir paused for a moment—a mere blink—then instinct took over. Before he could stamp down on his ardour, his palms went around her hips toward her backside. Cotton-clad softness in hand, he moulded her, then hauled her closer to him, heightening the contact they both craved.

Annalyn whimpered in response, the sound blending with his primal growl. There was so little between them now—his breeches and her smallclothes, that was it. Haldir was so hard he could barely stand it. What he wouldn't give to plunge into her, completing the marriage bond he so craved. It was absurd, he knew. They had barely begun this courtship. Nevertheless, the desire was there.

Haldir did not possess the gift of foresight. But if they ever chose to wed, he felt certain that they would set fire to a bed someday. Such was the heat between them.

As Annalyn dragged her nails across his back, her center rolling against his groin, waves of pleasure overtook him. Hearkening to the needs of his body, Haldir guided her motions until he couldn't stand it anymore. It was too good, and he was too close. By the looks of it, Annalyn was in a similar state.

Every time he pressed into her, she would whimper or cry out, the sound muffled by his hungry mouth.

His body shuddered.

"Yes," he heard her say.

Lest he spill his seed in the confines of his breeches, they would have to cease this soon. In desperate need of air, Haldir severed their kiss. Swallowing hard, he gathered her in a crushing embrace, and buried his face in her hair.

Save for the rise and fall of her chest, Annalyn had grown still. When she said his name, asking if he was alright, there was a note of concern in her voice.

Recalling her recent heartache, Haldir sought to reassure her by pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "I am more than alright. I but need a moment."

In the soft glow of fireflies, he rode on her heaving breaths for long moments, silently praying for his blood to slow. Easier said than done, however. She felt so good against him. And her scent… The Valar help me. Their encounter had roused her body, and the scent of her condition was so maddening, he couldn't help but breathe it in.

At length, Annalyn relaxed against him, her hand stroking loving patterns on his back. Adrift on the sensation, Haldir took several calming breaths.

When, at long last, he felt ready to speak, he did not loosen his hold, but kissed her hair one more time. "I am sorry I hurt you the other night. I should have explained myself. Words cannot express how deeply I regret."

After a beat went by, Annalyn eased away to catch his eyes. "I pushed too hard too fast. You need not—"

"I must explain," he interrupted, then his tone gentled once more. "You need to know."

Now she seemed truly puzzled, a hint of apprehension lurking just below the surface. "Know what?"

"The significance of such an act, what it would have meant for you and I."

His gaze falling to the little dip at the base of her throat, he went on. "When you offered yourself to me, you cannot know how badly I wished to have you. But to accept such a gift, without your full knowledge and consent,"—his eyes fell shut—"it would have been unforgivable."

"Unforgivable? In what way?"

Haldir stalled by licking his lips. With so much at stake, he had to choose his words with care. "When an Elf lies with another…" Needing to anchor himself, he placed a hand on the side of her face, and finally sought her gaze. With utter solemnity, he said, "It is as binding as any rite of marriage."

It took a few heartbeats for his words to sink in. But when they did, Annalyn's mouth fell open, her eyes widening not in confusion, but in alarm.

Before he could make sense of it, she slowly backed away from him.

"You are saying you've never…" The shock in her eyes was jarring, as was the way she turned away from him.

Distressed by her reaction, Haldir blinked a few times, then reached out a hand, only to have her shrink away from his touch. Why is she doing this? What came to pass just now?

Her outline haloed in the glow of fireflies, Annalyn faced the pool, as though she could no longer endure his gaze. It frightened him.

As her silence stretched on, she knelt and kept on staring ahead. His keen gaze discerned that she was trembling.

To be sure, something had gone horribly wrong just now. But what? His declaration had been the catalyst, it seemed. "When an Elf lies with another, it is as binding as any rite of marriage."

Baffled to the extreme, Haldir was revisiting these last few moments when her words came flooding back to him. "You are saying you've never…"

Suddenly, he understood, and his chest turned to lead.

Her unbound locks made darker by the hues of night, Annalyn tipped her face toward the heavens, her head shaking from side to side as she breathed a bitter laugh. Before Haldir could move or find the words to say anything, she turned her face just so. "I have." Her broken whisper had a definite edge to it—an edge that was clearly aimed at herself.

A silent moment went by. She was waiting for his reaction, it seemed.

"Wilmaer," was all he managed to say.

Annalyn's chin dipped downward. "Wilmaer," she confirmed with quiet distaste. With shame.

Anger welled within him, and his hand closed in a fist, hard enough for his nails to bite into his palm.

She said, "At the time, I sincerely believed he and I would wed. But then he made a fool of me." Another resentful breath and she was shaking her head again. "How could I be so blind?"

Though Haldir wished she would face him, he made no move, nor did he speak.

"What's done is done," Annalyn offered at last. "Surely, you are disappointed in me." Dragging her fingers through her hair, she drew a steadying breath, her tone surprisingly staid when she said, "Even so, as much as I regret, I will make no apologies for my past choices and mistakes, for I truly loved him at the time, and I did not know you then."

Willing air into his aching lungs, Haldir schooled his features into a controlled expression. Evenly, he murmured, "Yet you avert your gaze and will not look at me."

"I never wed him." Her words were defiant. "Wilmaer is a liar and a cheat. Never would I consent to marrying such a man. No, I am not wed to him." Her spine was straight, but then her fragile strength buckled and her shoulders curved inward. When next she spoke, her voice was small and broken. "Though I suppose, in your eyes I might be."

And there it was, the truth laid bare, and the real reason she was cowering in shame, unwilling and unable to meet his eyes.

Desperate to close the gulf that yawned between them, Haldir sidled closer. Wordlessly, he came to sit behind Annalyn. When he touched both of her arms, she tensed again, and made as if to leave. But his hands remained where they were, holding her in place—not roughly, though. Never.

"You are a daughter of Rohan, not an Elf," he began quietly, swallowing the pain he felt. That man, that undeserving cur, had touched her in ways he had only ever dreamed of. Placing no blame whatsoever on Annalyn, Haldir drew her toward his chest with infinite care. Then he bent his gaze on her. You are not his wife. You do not belong to him. His aching heart beat with nothing but love for her. Though she now owned Haldir's heart, Annalyn was not bound to anyone. Like the sand martins that nested on the banks of Celebrant, she was free to fly and soar, to go and do and love as she pleased. Softly, he said, "Your laws and customs are your own."

Annalyn's breath hitched at that.

"Forget about him. He has no claim over you." No sooner had these words rolled off his tongue, than her hand rose to her mouth. Her body shook a little. Despite her effort not to, Haldir knew she was weeping. His eyes fell closed. "I do not think ill of you, nor could I ever…" His whisper brimmed with emotion, his lips resting against her hair. "You are a gift, Annalyn. That man did not deserve you."

Now, she turned in his arms, her face seeking the crook of his neck as her fingers curled into his tunic, holding to him as though she feared he might disappear.

But Haldir wasn't going anywhere. He was here with her and, if she would have him, he always would be.


*firiel – "mortal woman"

*meleth nîn – "my love"