Hey, everyone. I just wanted to send a heartfelt thank you to my readers, with a special shout-out going to my reviewers: leward1992, durinsdaughter2469btw, Rogue's Queen, totomax, leelee202, Ruiniel, Kelwtim2spar, SarahELupin, starrat, Hexzhana, AshleyLeigh, Gandalf007, SmallLittleCagedBird, MotherAiya, Cricklewood16, HaldirLove, daughterofthechief, MommaWolf18, sun1995, Raider-K, Blue1258, Auriene, FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff, and mycarnation. Thank you! xox
CHAPTER LI
WITHIN REACH
Annalyn had been dreaming of the Horse Plains, seeing the verdant landscape from far above, as a bird would, when she awoke to the sound of gentle knocking. Opening one bleary eye then the other, she stretched before grabbing a robe and padding to the door, where Tellil, the chamber maid, informed her that her bath was ready, and that Haldir had asked if she could meet him at the armoury at her earliest convenience.
His summons, combined with the steep angle of the light that now filtered through the curtains, jolted her to wide-awakeness. Oh, curses! She had failed to realise how late it was. It was the afternoon!
When she and Haldir had parted ways in the early hours of the morning, the two had agreed to spend a much-needed day together. So they might talk and perhaps figure out where they would go from here.
Thinking back to those quiet moments when Haldir had walked her to her door, Annalyn recalled the guarded hope she had felt.
"Will I see you tomorrow? Today," she had corrected herself. "Or will you be leaving for the marches again?" Given Haldir's responsibilities, she had half-expected it. With open war on the horizon, there was such weight on his shoulders, so much to oversee, and so much for him to do.
Stopping by the front door, he had faced her fully. "If I were to leave, I would not return in time to bid you safe travels. Nay, I am not leaving. Not this time." The way he had said it… The gentleness in his eyes…
"So then I will see you in a few hours?"
In lieu of answering, Haldir had first narrowed the space between them, making her tremble when his fingers had brushed her palm, raising her hand to his lips for the softest of kisses. "Nothing would please me more."
But now she was running late.
"Will you be joining him, then?" Tellil inquired, snapping her thoughts to the present.
Schooling her features into a polite smile, Annalyn promised to go at once, adding, "Well, after I bathe. But… the armoury? Did he say why?"
"Nay. However, he did ask that you bring your sword."
"My sword?" Now Annalyn was truly baffled. Her weapon? Today? "Did he say what for?"
But Tellil only laughed, shaking her head. "I am but the messenger." With a courteous nod, the Elf bid Annalyn a good afternoon, and was on her way.
At a loss, Annalyn hastily gathered her things before making for the bathing room at the far end of the upper landing. But even as she bathed, washing as quickly as she could, the question remained: Does he wish to train?
Annalyn enjoyed training, it was true. And she loved learning from the Elves. But given her impending departure, and the heavy decision she and Haldir had yet to make, it seemed like a strange and wasteful way to spend their day.
Indeed, tomorrow would be for final preparations—packing, verifying her supplies, and seeing to the horses—for she and Ninael were set to leave for Rohan before daybreak on the day after next.
Washing and dressing in short order, Annalyn was fastening her vest when she caught her reflection in the full-length mirror. Having just been washed, her clothing bore no visible stains, and yet she had to admit they were beginning to show their age. Pity, she thought, for she rather liked these clothes. Granted, they paled in comparison to the ethereal dress she had worn last night. But Annalyn liked dressing this way. It was comfortable, practical. If anything, it felt more like her.
That wasn't to say she hadn't had a good time last night. Quite the opposite. As she promptly tamed her locks and braided her hair, her thoughts circled back to the moment Haldir had surprised her by that rail. He had looked so handsome and dignified. But more than that, he had seemed genuinely happy to see her. Relieved even.
"You stayed," he had said during their reunion, as though a small part of him disbelieved it.
Moved by his confession, she had taken a moment to reply. "I could not bear to leave." No truer words had ever left her mouth.
"There." With a nod at her mirror image, Annalyn smoothed a hand over the leather stays of her vest. Deeming herself presentable, she then left the bathing room and went in search of her sword-belt. By the time she was hurrying out of the house, she was still daydreaming, smiling as she recalled the pride she had felt while dancing with Haldir.
In all truthfulness, the festival had been perfect. Even so, it was nothing compared to the private moments that followed. The laugher they had shared when Haldir had carried her through the woods. The awe she had felt upon seeing the innumerable fireflies above the hidden pool.
Even now, Annalyn recalled those quiet moments, the tender words they had spoken. Once they had decided that they were indeed courting, Haldir had guided her onto his lap. And then he had kissed her.
Thus he had set aside the warden, loving her as a red-blooded male instead. Although they had refrained from shedding their clothes and joining their bodies, they had opened their hearts fully and made love in other ways. With winding touches and hooded eyes. With whispered declarations and fervent kisses. All of it punctuated by moans and hums and breathy sighs.
As if that wasn't powerful enough, they had spoken in the aftermath, divulging things that needed to be said, starting with the reason Haldir had denied her that night, when she had climbed up to his room in hopes of making love.
When he had finally told her about elven marriages, explaining how they came to be, Annalyn had stiffened in shock and astonishment. Haldir—this confident male, both ancient and wise—had never been with a woman? It made perfect sense now, but in the moment it had defied belief.
As the full meaning of his words had set in, so too had her fears. The fear of what he might think when he learned that she had once given herself to Wilmaer. The fear that he would think less of her, or worse, that he would see her as a woman already wed and bound.
Luckily, for a mercy, Haldir had wasted no time in quieting her fears, soothing her aching heart with whispered words, spoken against her scalp. "You are a daughter of Rohan, not an Elf. Your laws and customs are your own." By themselves, these words would have been enough, but then he had followed with another declaration. "You are a gift, Annalyn. That man did not deserve you."
Now her feet carried her past the kitchens, then down the stone steps that hugged the hillside. Eyes lost in a dreamy gaze, Annalyn mirrored his sentiment. You are my gift, Haldir. And right now, her gift was waiting for her. Best to hurry, then.
Though they hadn't been parted long, Annalyn missed being near him, and couldn't wait to see him again.
Her thoughts lingering on last night, she saw them as they had been—mouths fused in sensual exploration, limbs locked in a passionate embrace. To hold and kiss him had been one of the most freeing and rousing experience of her life. But what of today, she wondered. How would it go? They had so much to discuss and decide. If only she hadn't overslept.
Since the armoury was near to the Galadhrim's training yard, it wasn't long before Annalyn found the structure. Made of stone rather than wood, Lothlórien's armoury was a marvel to behold, with tall archways flanked by statues carved in the likeness of elven soldiers.
In contrast to the surrounding city, there was a lot of bustle here. Elves were coming and going, while in the neighbouring training yard, no less than thirty soldiers were honing their skills under Erynion's watchful stare. Noting her presence, Haldir's counterpart inclined his head in a proud yet gallant greeting. Acknowledging him in turn, Annalyn looked to the soldiers again.
Awed by their prowess, she couldn't help but gawk at them as she walked on toward the armoury, where the guard at the entrance took notice of her and said, "You may enter. The Marchwarden awaits inside."
Her arrival netted several stares, she noted. But unlike last night—when the looks had been mostly curious—some of the Elves beheld her with troubled expressions laced with concern.
But then, we weren't exactly subtle last night. In fact, Annalyn and Haldir had spent a good portion of the night in the middle of the hall, dancing with their gazes entwined, their feelings essentially laid out for all to see. As if that wasn't telling enough, they had slipped away shortly afterward, leaving the Elves to wonder where their Marchwarden had gone.
Now these soldiers regarded her as she passed by. And though most were courteous enough to incline their heads in greeting, Annalyn could tell they were uneasy, maybe even fretful. She could easily guess why. Their Marchwarden, a respected and much-loved captain of the Galadhrim, was in love with a mortal.
Seeing their faces, Annalyn couldn't help but wonder what Haldir's friends truly thought of their deepening relationship. At their table last night, Glirwen, Bestedir, and the others had been nothing but kind, they eyes shining in gladness. But underneath their smiling faces, a part of them must have been worried.
Ithriel, for her part, seemed wholly in favour. Annalyn couldn't help but wonder why.
Some of the guards were still staring at her. Unaccustomed to such scrutiny, Annalyn stamped down on her guilt and returned their nods as she walked onward, into a vast space lined with tapestries, all manner of elegant weapons, and the most stunning suits of armour she had ever seen.
A few weeks ago, Annalyn had glimpsed these marvels from afar, when she and Ithriel had stopped by the training yard to watch Haldir instruct his soldiers. The armoured suits had impressed her then. Now the craftsmanship awed her even more. Slowing as she passed them by, Annalyn's fascination grabbed hold of her, and she stopped to examine the nearest one.
The cuirass and pauldrons were as graceful as leaves, fashioned with bronze, silver, and gold. The cuisse and hauberk, however, were plated in gold only. Same for the gorget which had been crafted to look like dragon scales. Transfixed, she was running a finger over the golden points when Haldir's voice reached her from beyond an archway leading to an adjacent room. Noting her presence, he called her name.
Remembering why she was here, Annalyn immediately ceased her study, and went to him.
By the looks of it, Haldir had been pouring over documents, his hands resting on the edge of a large wooden table in the middle of what looked to be a war room. Like most elven structures, the space was airy and partially open to the outside. They could even see the training yard from here.
"I see Tellil delivered my message," Haldir said by way of greeting. "Did you rest well?"
"Too well. I wished I hadn't slept so long. I feel like the day has gotten away from me." From us, she wanted to say. With so little time left, they couldn't afford to waste any of it. "Thank you for sending Tellil," she said and meant it. Today was far too important. She knew it. And Haldir knew it, too.
Ambling further into the room, Annalyn couldn't help looking him up and down. His sword was at his hip, but instead of Galadhrim grey, Haldir had opted for umber trousers today, with a white tunic which he had rolled at the sleeves. With an admiring glance at his corded forearms, Annalyn rounded the table, and patted her scabbard. "It seems I was to bring my sword?"
Amusement shone on his otherwise unreadable face. Shuffling his documents into a neat stack, he faced her as Annalyn said, "I must admit, I did not expect we would be training today."
"You think that is what I have in mind?"
"Is it not?"
But the warden would not yield his secrets so easily. Instead, he piqued her interest even more by glancing toward the threshold and moving past her.
"Wait. Where are we going?" Hastening in his wake, she exited the room and found him as he was grabbing his quiver from a weapons rack.
"Well?" Annalyn prompted as he proceeded to fasten the leather strap across his broad chest. "Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?"
With his quiver in place, Haldir reached for his bow then grabbed a satchel. "Neither. Instead I will show you."
She bit back a laugh. It was so typically Haldir.
And so, he led her out into the light of day, traversing the green avenues ever southward until the city gates came into view. As they opened before them, Annalyn spotted a familiar outline beyond the stone road outside. "What's Cobalt doing here?" To Haldir, she smiled. "Did you do this?"
Taking his silence as confirmation, Annalyn walked over to where her horse was grazing. Allowing Cobalt to smell the back of her hand, she greeted her dear friend with gentle words then noticed another horse nearby. In contrast to Cobalt's dark coat, this horse was a light dapple grey, with a mane of pure white.
"Thank you for bringing them here," she heard Haldir say in Sindarin.
Annalyn had not noticed, until then, that a stablehand was lingering nearby. "It was my pleasure," this one said. "May your day be joyful and your paths be green." With that, the Elf took his leave.
"So now that we are out here, are you going to tell me where we are going?" Annalyn said as she mounted her horse.
Doing the same, Haldir patted the horse's neck before answering, "It is a fair day. I thought we might go for a ride."
A vague explanation. Nevertheless, Annalyn discerned his intent and was grateful. By venturing outside the city, the two would be truly alone together, away from prying eyes and ears as they grappled with the decision at hand.
"I would like that," she said softly, "but why the weapons?"
He brought his horse nearer to hers. "Call it a force of habit. Even if the Naith is well-guarded, it is always more prudent to bear weapons beyond these walls."
"Sensible, I suppose."
Thus they went, taking to the sunlit meadows at a refreshing canter. Stealing a glance or two, Annalyn had to own that Haldir could ride. He seemed completely in tune with his horse, his tall frame conforming to every movement with graceful ease. He cut quite a figure as he rode just slightly ahead of her. His hair shone like white gold in the sun. Slowing to a trot, then a walk, the two eventually guided their horses into the sheltering woods, where songbirds could be heard between the trees. It was altogether peaceful, with the occasional leaf falling here and there.
The two rode in silence for a time, traversing the timeless woods in a lazy arc, until their path brought them nearer to the city again, where they emerged into another meadow.
"Cerin Amroth," Haldir explained, but she already knew.
Her thoughts awash with the dream she had once had—his nightmare that she had witnessed rather—Annalyn spared him a glance and wondered if he knew they had been sharing dreams. Instead of asking, however, she surveyed the impressive landscape and rode forth. Unlike the dreariness of the dream, a warm light lay over everything. "It is beautiful."
Dismounting within the concentric circle of trees, the two settled upon the grass for a meal, for Haldir had thought to bring food in his satchel. Grapes, peaches, nuts, bread, and a few bite-sized pastries—which he clearly loved. Wine he had brought also, which he opened in short order.
Smiling a private smile, Annalyn swept a gaze over the meadow. But soon the dream filled her thoughts again. Haldir had once told her that he feared for his brothers, for his soldiers, and all who lived here. He feared for Lothlórien. His nightmare, she now knew, had been a representation of that: the destruction of these woods, the end of Caras Galadhon, the place he loved above all others.
Troubled by all she had learned of late—about Sauron and the War of the Last Alliance, about Aman and the waxing glory of the Elves—Annalyn couldn't help but wonder how it would all play out, and when.
Was Ithriel right? Would the Elves be forced to leave Middle-earth?
A world without Elves…
The thought made her profoundly sad—though hopefully, they wouldn't have to leave for a very long time. Keeping to that hope, Annalyn skimmed a gentle hand over the grass by her legs. "What do you call these?"
"Hmm?" Haldir followed her line of sight. "Oh, you mean the flowers. The yellow ones we call elanor, whereas the white ones are called niphredil. Long have they grown in this meadow." By his absent tone, Annalyn could tell that he had withdrawn deep within himself, and that flowers were the farthest thing from his mind.
His next words explained why. "Last night was simple and wonderful, a much-needed escape for both of us. It was not a time for deep questions, nor was it a time for life-altering decisions. However, today…" Now he looked to her, and his eyes were sad. "You are a proud woman of the Mark, a wandering spirit who has seen much of this world. I am a warden of the Galadhrim. You know I cannot leave here."
"I know," Annalyn said, hoping he would perceive how sincere she was. "You belong with your people. I would never expect nor ask you to leave."
"Do you miss it," he ventured softly, and reached out a hand, his fingers brushing the side of her face. "Do you miss your home?"
Her features became subdued. She couldn't lie to him. She wouldn't. "I miss it, yes… But given all that has happened, I know that nothing will ever be the same again."
Her left arm draped over her bent knee, Annalyn pondered her future with a heavy heart. He dropped his hand. "My home is a humble dwelling, not very large," she explained. "And yet, without my kin, it will feel all too vast and empty, I am sure… As I sit here now, I miss my home, it is true. But even once I arrive, I think I shall miss it all the more, longing for the way it used to be."
A shadow of understanding took shape in his eyes. But then, being an immortal Elf, Haldir was no stranger to loss and change.
She went on. "My kin are gone. I do not accept it. I never will. But time will go on, and I…" Another breath and she cemented her resolve. "I cannot honour their lives if I do not live mine." Imagining possible outcomes for the future, she felt her mouth curve in a wistful smile, for a tiny flame had kindled in her heart, a flickering candle of hope perhaps. "'Make the best of it', as some might say."
His features revealing little, Haldir gave a nod at that.
She said, "Which brings us to the decision at hand… We are courting, yes. But where that will lead us, I do not know. I must return home, as you know. I must tell Erna of Aldin's passing. But after…"
When it became clear that Haldir wished for her to go first, Annalyn regarded him somberly. "You now know how I feel. You know that I am in love with you… But if I am being truthful, my heart and my head are telling me two things."
Because they had much to sort through, and little time to do it in, Annalyn decided to get to the heart of the matter, even if it hurt to say it. "I will not always be young, Haldir. I will be eight-and-twenty in less than a month. Not quite old, I admit, but there are some amongst my people who feel that I am not so young anymore, that I should have wed a decade ago, like most women of the Westfold do. But while I do not regret my life choices, the truth remains that I am nearing thirty. And as young as I still feel, youth is a fleeting thing for the race of Men."
At his continuing silence, Annalyn picked at the worn fabric of her trousers. "I am not one of the Dúnedain. I will not be blessed with long life. The best I can hope for is several more decades at the most, much of it spent with aging features and greying hair." A heavy pause. She had to ask, "It seems hardly fair to you. Could you live with that?"
"You speak as if I do not know this."
"Knowing it and living it are two different things, Haldir."
In sudden need of space to think, Annalyn gained her feet, and started weaving her way between the encircling trees, while Haldir remained where he was. Long moments passed. As the debate raged on in her head, he eventually rose from where he had been lounging, and began matching her languid pace, but at a slight distance.
Separated by a long, curving line of mallyrn, the two continued around the circle, going from tree to tree, until Annalyn broke her silence. "We cannot change who we are. I will grow old and I will die." Her words would be a knife to his heart, she knew. Yet they needed to be said. "These past few nights, I have often thought of us as we might be some day. You, ageless and unchanging. And I..." Her voice faltered as her mind supplied an image of him, fair and grieving, before an old crone.
Haldir concealed his distress by looking away.
"Would it not be absurd?" she pressed as he came to a halt. She waited. "Must you be so silent? Are you not debating this as well?"
At last, he looked to her. "I am," was his answer. "But for me it is not the same."
"How do you mean?"
Haldir appeared to weigh his words, and seemed ready to tell her when his horse walked up to him, interrupting their conversation with a gentle push of his muzzle. Before Haldir could meet her eyes again, she was already walking away, leaving the circle of trees for the reason that she couldn't breathe.
Out in the surrounding meadow, Annalyn pressed the heels of her hands to her eye-sockets. How are we supposed to do this?
With a few deep breaths, she willed her confused heart to slow. Knowing she should go back to resume their conversation, Annalyn gathered herself enough to turn around. But, bless him, he was already there, standing but a few paces from her, his solemn gaze searching her face as he finally narrowed the gap. "What is it you want, Annalyn?" He drew nearer still. "Tell me. I must know."
Tilting her head to catch his eyes, she said, "I want the impossible. I want to love you without hurting you." When his strong arms closed about her shoulders, Annalyn offered no resistance. She was tired. She was sad and angry. She loved him so much it hurt.
"Why me?" she whispered against his steady heart. "Why did you have to fall in love with me?"
"Believe me, I tried very hard not to."
Even without looking, Annalyn knew he was smiling. Damn him. And damn her for smiling, too.
As a gentle wind swirled around them, she swatted his chest, and laughed despite her tears. "Stop. This is no laughing matter."
"You are right, firiel, it is not." As mirth yielded to solemn earnestness, he drew back to meet her gaze. "But I would have you nonetheless, meleth nîn."
Swallowing against the tightness in her throat, Annalyn absorbed his quiet declaration with closing eyes. Meleth nîn—my love.
So overcome was she, it was a moment before she could lift her eyes again.
"Indeed, it is my choice," he murmured. "But I will not force it upon you nor would I guilt you into choosing a life by my side." When Haldir eased away, caressing her cheek before he turned and made for the spot where he had left his belongings, Annalyn understood that he was giving her the time she needed.
The patience of Elves, she mused and loved him all the more.
Unable and unwilling to stay away, Annalyn followed after him, and when he laid upon the grass to stare up at the clouds, she cast herself down next to him. Side by side, their hands linked between them, the two drifted on their own thoughts for a while.
Stealing a glance, Annalyn had to own that Haldir would be a good husband. In fact, she knew it without a doubt. Loyal and devoted, he would love her until the day she died, and beyond. But the "beyond" troubled her greatly. How long would he grieve? From what she now knew of the Elves, it would be a long time to be sure. Too long, her conscience chimed in, stirring her doubts once more.
"I am sorry."
Her murmured words reached him as the sun began its slow descent.
Puzzled and slightly alarmed by her apology, Haldir looked sidelong at her. Normally, Annalyn was an open book to him—her emotions playing over her features like patchy sunlight on a meadow—but in this moment, as her eyes skimmed the cerulean sky, Haldir found he could not read her face. As he waited, he wondered if she might be rejecting him, thinking it was best.
Instead, she said, "Earlier, I spoke as if I saw no hope for us. But if such was the case…" A trembling breath, then she looked to him. "If such was the case, I would not be here. I would have left."
Moved and greatly relieved by the hope in her words, Haldir gave a heartfelt squeeze to her fingers, his thumb tracing loving patterns on her hand.
She did not know it, but today was entirely for her, so that she might find the truth in her own heart. Because, for his part, the choice was already made. And his choice was her.
A fortnight ago, prior to leaving for the fences, Haldir had expressed a desire to speak with her. "There is something we should discuss, something that I feel you should know."
His fae had chosen. Regardless of where they went from here, Haldir would love her for all time. But now that they were here, pondering their futures beneath peaceful skies, something held him back. His conscience perhaps, for though Annalyn was independent by nature, she was also altruistic. What if she were to put his needs above her own? If she knew the true depth of his feelings for her, he feared she might choose him more for his sake than her own, to give him joy before his heart broke forever.
Haldir did not want that. He couldn't bear it. He would rather fade and die than to constrain or cage her into a life she might not choose for herself.
No, if she truly wanted a life by his side, it had to come from the desires of her own heart. If his hopes came to fruition and she chose him, then yes, he would tell her. But not before. It wouldn't be right.
Besides, there were other things to discuss, and the time was now.
"Annalyn?"
Her head pivoted on the grass.
"Would you be happy here?" he asked. "In Caras Galadhon, amongst the Elves."
"Could it ever feel like home, you mean?"
Haldir gave a nod.
Annalyn turned onto her side to face him. With her head propped on her palm, she watched as he faced her, too. "If travelling with my kin has taught me one thing," she said, "it is that home can be many things. It can be a feeling, a moment, time spent with those whom we love."
Haldir's heart lifted. Still, he waited.
She went on. "Earlier, when I spoke of my kin, I said that the only way to honour their lives was to live my own. To that I hold. But Haldir, if we do this… I would not have you mourn my loss for years unnumbered."
Regret besieged him. "Annalyn, I—"
"No, let me finish. I will not always be here. If we join our lives, I would not have you linger in unending grief after I have gone." Her hand found his heart. He covered it with his own. "In fact, my most cherished hope would be for you to live your life and find joy again." Her gaze fell away from his, and her brows creased in a slight frown. "In the arms of another if need be."
But Haldir was shaking his head, his heart and fae rebelling against the idea. He was an Elf. She couldn't know what she was asking, the impossibility of it. "What you are asking—"
But Annalyn shushed him by placing a finger to his lips. "Think on it… Or at the very least try."
Haldir blinked.
Never in his long life had anyone ever silenced him in such a fashion. Shocked and speechless, all he could do was stare. Despite the seriousness of their discussion, it was an effort not to laugh. She dares silence me with a finger?
Though honestly, it should come as no surprise. Annalyn was impulsive at times, and could be rather bold when she wanted to be. Mortals, he thought with sudden fondness. How his opinion of them had changed.
Thinking he might be able to make her squirm, Haldir arched a brow and pinned her with a stare, silently challenging her until a fierce blush came to paint her cheeks. She lowered her finger. Now he allowed a smirk. "You are quite brazen, do you know?"
"Is that such a bad thing?"
He felt his features soften. "Nay."
Haldir might have kissed her then, and would have continued their discussion, but Cobalt was drawing near, interrupting the moment by snorting and stamping his hooves on the grass.
"What is it, friend?" Annalyn asked the animal then looked to Haldir to provide the answer.
"Ídhrog nên?" Haldir asked, thinking the animal might desire water. A soft snort from Cobalt told him he had guessed rightly. "It would seem our friend wishes to quench his thirst."
And so they gained their feet in the light of the westering sun. After gathering their things, the two mounted their horses and made for the nearest water source. There, by a shimmering stream bordered by tall grass, Haldir and Annalyn talked about nothing and everything, little things that made her laugh. How he loved that laugh, how beautiful and unrestrained it was.
Unless his eyes were cheated by hope, it seemed to him that she was more at ease than she had been before. Her eyes, when she looked to him, gleamed with warmth and joy.
Glad as he was to see it, Haldir was preoccupied with their earlier exchange, how she wanted him to move on after she had gone. Of course, he had to tell her that such a thing was impossible. His fate, in that sense, was already sealed. He would grieve for her regardless, and would never love another. But would her loss mean his doom?
As Annalyn walked alongside her horse, Haldir watched her for a moment. In his mind, he recalled a recent conversation he had had with Orophin, as the two were standing watch one night. "You are strong, Haldir," his brother had said to him then, "stronger than anyone I know."
By these words, Orophin had conveyed his belief that he could weather this. That he would be strong enough to endure Annalyn's death and keep on living. Was he right, though?
Thinking back to what Annalyn had said earlier, that the only way to honour her kin was to live her life and keep on going, Haldir knew that he would have to try. For her. Before he could voice any of this, however, Annalyn halted so he might catch up. There seemed to be a question in her eyes.
"You wish to ask me something," he guessed, and saw the shyness on her face.
With lead in hand, Haldir guided his horse forward, and came to stand beside Annalyn, who said, "I was just thinking of all I learned last night, about your ways. It made me realise how little I know of your people."
"If you harbour questions, please give voice to them. In fact, I insist."
Her features stained with the light of the setting sun, Annalyn looked to the western horizon, and cleared her throat. "Theoretically speaking, when one marries an Elf…"
His heart sped up at her words, yet he waited for her to say more.
"When Elves marry," she started again, and looked to him. "Do they have an actual ceremony?" Her eyes lowered, the barest hint of a smile coming to paint her blushing face. "Or do they just…"
… make love, he silently finished for her.
A knowing smile found its way to his mouth. Softly, he said, "You need not be embarrassed. I shall explain."
Seemingly heartened by his words, Annalyn looked up into his eyes.
"Elves can marry while on the run or in exile. At all times, it is lawful for us to wed without ceremony or witness, in the manner I explained last night. But generally speaking, there is a ceremony, yes. More than one, in fact."
"More than one?"
"It begins with a betrothal," Haldir went on to say. "When Elves decide that they are going to marry, their families gather for a betrothal feast, during which silver rings are exchanged."
With little more than a foot between them, he continued. "To make certain they are meant to marry, the pair usually allows a full year to pass. In the event that they decide not to wed, the ellon and elleth return their silver rings publicly, melting them so none can ever wear them again."
"That is quite profound."
"It is. Rarely does this happen, however," Haldir said. "I, myself, have never seen it done."
"What about weddings, then?"
They were standing closer now.
Haldir continued, "When the time arrives, an even greater feast is held. At some point during the feast, the couple joins hands and goes to a place where all can see them." A sadness fell over him then. He explained why. "It is then that the mother of the bride and the father of the bridegroom come forward to bless their union, naming Manwë and Varda as witnesses. The name of Eru Ilúvatar is also spoken."
Since neither of them had living parents to fulfill that role, it was now clear that such a ceremony would be impossible for them. At the very least, it would have to be altered, should they eventually choose to marry.
"With the blessing concluded, the ellon and elleth return the silver rings of their betrothal, before gifting one another with gold rings, which are worn on the index finger." With that, he presented his right hand, holding it aloft in the narrow space between them. Her eyes darting to the spot where his ring would go, Annalyn's breath caught with sudden understanding. What was once an unattainable future could very well be theirs, if they chose to seize it.
"What of your people?" Haldir inquired, turning the tables on her. "How does one marry a woman of the Riddermark?"
"Well…" Annalyn swallowed, her words nigh breathless when she said, "I suppose it begins with the giving of gifts, which the man presents to the maid's father." A veil of sorrow descended upon her features, for she had no kin to speak of. Nevertheless, she went on, her face warming once more. "Customarily, the gifts are placed before the father's home sometime during the night. If the gifts are accepted, the couple may then plight their troth before their friends and kin in the mead-hall. As for the ceremony itself, it is a simple exchange, a promise to honour the other until they are parted by death. Then, as is oft the case in my homeland, the people feast and drink for the remainder of the night."
"Your people have spirited traditions."
Annalyn's smile broadened at that. But with the absence of her kin clearly weighing on her heart, she soon trained her eyes toward the city. "Day is waning. Perhaps we should head back."
"You have much to do tomorrow. I suppose I should walk you home so that you might rest."
Annalyn chuckled, erasing his regret when she said, "No. You mistake my intent. I have no desire to rest."
With narrowing eyes, Haldir wondered what she meant by that. But Annalyn was already mounting her horse. "Are you coming?" she called over her shoulder.
There was no need to ask him twice.
*Ídhrog nên? – "Do you want water?"
