Once again, I wish to thank all my readers and reviewers, as well as those who have favorited or are following this story.

SarahELupin, KathrannofQuade, durinsdaughter2469btw, Auriene, Hexzhana, xXxLaLaxXx, Cricklewood16, totomax, DarkLordofMemes, Tobiramamara, Ruiniel, Erinnichole1560, SmallLittleCagedBird, ladyville, AshleyLeigh, starrat, leelee202, leward1992, Gandalf007, princessnerra, and Blue1258. Your comments on the last chapter were much appreciated. Especially since it wasn't an easy chapter to read.


CHAPTER LVII

A BITTER NIGHT

Evening had fallen by the time Haldir arrived at Ithriel's home, Annalyn's gift clutched in his hand. Freshly-bathed, he smoothed the front of his short-coat, and glanced down at himself one last time. Tailored to a snug and complimentary fit, the garment was made of a textured fabric of the deepest, darkest red. Paired with slim-trousers and his usual pair of boots, it felt like an appropriate choice for tonight's dinner.

And yet, as he lingered by the door, drawing a steadying breath as he made to knock, Haldir hesitated. Three thousand years he had walked the earth, yet he felt like a young an inexperienced ellon tonight. With a rare knot in his stomach, his eyes went to the gift he had brought—one of two. Wrapped in an embroidered handkerchief, it was secured with a delicate golden ribbon. Staring at it, a frown soon creased his brows. Perhaps he had erred. Perhaps he should have procured a proper gift box. Or maybe he should have chosen another gift altogether.

Cursing this sudden and inhabitual lack of confidence, Haldir smothered his trepidation, and squared his shoulders. He was being ridiculous. He was also wasting time.

Since Annalyn was set to leave sometime before daybreak, these would be their final hours together for at least two months. Normally, this would be but a flicker for an Elf, but Haldir's perception of time had changed of late. Instead of a slow and flowing stream, the passage of time had morphed into this racing, howling beast, unstoppable and much too quick for his liking. Such was the consequence of loving a mortal, he supposed. And while time seemed fleeting now, part of him knew it would not always be so. For when the Gift of Men finally caught up with Annalyn, snatching her from his arms, Haldir knew that his perception would change forever more, and that the long years of his life would slow to a neverending and sorrow-filled crawl.

Choosing to focus on the present, Haldir shifted on his feet and thought of her departure. It is but one season, he reminded himself. Not even a full winter. If all went well, spring would be drawing nigh by the time Annalyn returned to him. Hopefully she would arrive in time to witness his favourite event of the year, when this undying forest would renew itself in a most glorious display. She would love it, he thought. Perhaps as much as he did. For the mallyrn would shed their golden leaves. But instead of standing bare, their branches would be filled with spring leaves. Thus the Golden Wood would turn green for a time. A season of renewal and life, when birds nested and many animals gave birth to their young.

Haldir knocked to announce his arrival.

When Ithriel's voice sounded through the door, inviting him inside, he entered the home to find a beautifully set table, complete with silver-covered platters and three settings.

Clad in a lavender gown, Ithriel was setting a basket of bread between two flickering candles. "You left your hair unbound," she noted and seemed surprised. "It is long since I have seen you wear it thusly."

In truth, Haldir couldn't remember the last time he had worn his hair in this fashion. Used to sporting warrior braids, he had begun plaiting the sides earlier in the night. But recalling what Annalyn had said this very morning, after they had awoken from a shared dream, he had changed his mind. "You should let your hair down more often" she had said to him then. "It looks beautiful when it is unbound."

Wanting to please her, Haldir had brushed his hair back until every strand fell in a smooth curtain. Save for two small sections at the temples, he had tucked the remaining locks behind his ears, exposing the delicate points.

"It suits you," Ithriel remarked and smiled.

Noting that his brother's wife was alone, Haldir sent his gaze about the room. "Is Annalyn still upstairs?"

"Nay," Ithriel replied, crossing her arms on a contemplative sigh. "She was out earlier, and has yet to come home." Now she waved a hand. "But I am certain she will arrive presently. Doubtless she is with Ninael, ensuring that all is in readiness for their journey tomorrow. Ah, I see you have brought a gift."

Her eyes atwinkle, Ithriel stared at his gift, shifting her weight from her heels to the balls of her feet. He knew that look. His brother's wife was dying to know what he had procured. "May I see?" she inquired at last.

To ensure they were still alone, Haldir cast a look toward the open air window at the front of the house. Seeing and hearing nothing, he unwrapped the bundle and held it out for Ithriel to see. "It caught her eye once," he explained, thinking of the day he had first showed her the market. Indeed, he had seen the way Annalyn had admired the hair comb, how her gaze had lingered upon it as she had walked by.

Cradled in the handkerchief, the item gleamed in the golden light of the room. Made of silver, the hair comb was delicate, shaped like a mallorn leaf.

"A fine gift," Ithriel said with warmth. "She will love it."

Though reassured by her words, Haldir could not help the nervous flutters in his stomach. Wordlessly, he wrapped the comb again, and fastened the golden ribbon in a bow.

"There is joy in your heart," Ithriel remarked and seemed glad.

Smiling in reply, Haldir wandered into the sitting area.

"Would you like a drink while we wait?"

No sooner had he agreed than Ithriel went to fetch two glasses, which she then filled with miruvor.

"Pity Orophin could not be here," she said and handed his glass over.

He, too, wished that his brother was here. Taking the proffered beverage, Haldir sighed. "Such is the price we pay for living in these dark times."

"I saw Rúmil today." Her tone grew more subdued. "I invited him, but…"

"He would not come," Haldir finished for her. "I cannot say that I am surprised. He is cross with me. He does not approve of Annalyn."

"He is frightened I think," she allowed quietly, her eyes hinting at similar fears. Despite her worries, however, Ithriel seemed genuinely happy for him. And for that, he was glad. "The tables have reversed and now the youngest brother is watching over the eldest."

Haldir felt his features harden. "Well he need not do so."

"His heart is in a good place. But I will speak to him if you wish."

If only it were that simple. "Nay. No good will come of it." Quiet footsteps carried him to the open air window, where he heaved a heavy breath and said, "I have made my decision. Rúmil will have to come to terms with it. On his own," he felt the need to add. "We cannot do this for him."

"You are right. Though I am certain he will come around in time."

Needing to change the subject, Haldir considered the gift in his hand.

"What is it?" Ithriel asked, sensing the debate that had come into his thoughts.

"I was going to present this to her at dinner, but now I am uncertain."

"Haldir, you need not worry. Annalyn will love—"

"You misunderstand. I have thought of another idea." Hopefully it was a good one.

Relaying it to her, Haldir watched as Ithriel smiled and nodded in approval.

"Would you see it done?" he asked.

"Oh, I think I can manage," was her conspiratorial reply. Once he had handed her the bundle, Haldir took a steadying sip of miruvor while Ithriel ascended the staircase and returned in short order.

The evening wore on. Having drained their glasses, the two wandered the room for what seemed the hundredth time.

"What could be keeping her?" Ithriel voiced aloud.

The candles were partly melted at this point, their dinner likely cold.

With a growing sense of disquiet, Haldir set his empty glass on the table. Something is wrong. "I am going to look for her."

"Good idea." Ithriel rubbed her arms, looking as troubled as he felt. "I will remain hither in case she returns."

Thus it was that Haldir left the house, and descended the mallorn in search of Annalyn. At the terrace, he saw that a dozen or so Elves were gathered. Alas she was not among them. Ignoring their curious glances, he strode to the kitchen, peered inside and found it was empty.

He had just started down the stone steps leading to the green paths below when a voice made him halt.

"Are you looking for Annalyn?"

It was Taerion. Sitting on a root that protruded from the hillside, he held a small sketch book upon his lap, a lump of coal in his hand. By the troubled look on his youthful face, Haldir could tell that drawing was a pretense, that the young Elf had been sitting there, watching and waiting for someone, maybe Annalyn.

"Do you know where she is?" Haldir demanded.

"Nay. But…" The young Elf closed his sketch book and hesitated.

"But what?" he asked, then warned. "Taerion…"

"I spoke to her today, over there by the kitchens. Scarcely had we parted ways when I doubled-back, wanting to ask her something. It was then that I saw her speaking to Rúmil. I meant not to eavesdrop, but I overheard them nonetheless." Uneasiness filled his features. "He asked to have a word with her."

Haldir's stomach dropped.

"When next I saw her," Taerion continued. "She was hastening down these steps. Something was wrong, Haldir. Never have I seen her looking so distressed. Concerned, I went after her, but all she said was, 'not now, Taerion.' Then she asked if I knew where you were."

A chill ran down his spine. "In what direction did she go?"

Taerion pointed east. "That way."

And so Haldir took to the steps, first at a brisk walk, then at a run.

Rúmil had spoken to Annalyn, and whatever he had said clearly hadn't gone over well. I should have known he would meddle, he chided himself. Irate and worried, Haldir scoured the city, his fretful gaze sweeping the suspended walkways and green avenues until, at long last, he found her, sitting on a tree root, a stone's throw from the statues of Amroth and Nimrodel.

Relieved that she was still here, Haldir sought to calm his rioting emotions. After a brief pause, he walked over to where she sat.

Seemingly oblivious to his approach, Annalyn was staring at the stone image of his long lost King. A wine bottle in her hand, she raised it to her lips and drank directly from it. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she angled the mostly empty bottle toward Amroth. "If you want my advice, you should have set sail," she said to the statue. Her speech wasn't quite slurred, but as she swallowed another mouthful, Haldir sensed that the wine was affecting her. Maybe she wanted it to.

Standing behind her left shoulder, he said her name, gently.

Annalyn pretended not to hear him.

Steeling himself against what was to come, he said, "Ithriel and I waited for you. Why do you linger out here?" Part of the answer was fairly obvious; her current mood had something to do with his youngest brother. What did he say to you?

At first, Annalyn ignored his query. With hunched shoulders, she set the bottle aside, and stared long at the statues. At length, she drew a weary breath. Only then did she speak. "I came to a realisation tonight."

Haldir waited to hear more, but her next words were not what he expected to hear. "Amroth was a fool."

Hurt and taken aback by these words, he stiffened but remained silent. At least she was speaking to him. "He died for nothing," she went on to say. "He tarried in his boat when he should have set sail. Nimrodel was already lost when he leapt into the sea. It was all a waste. A needless and reckless waste."

Assuming she was making a parallel, it was a moment before he could gather himself. "Clearly something, or someone, has angered you." He, too, was angry, though thankfully he was able to keep his ire from his voice. Promising to have words with his brother, he moved closer to her, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder when he murmured, "Was it Rúmil? Taerion said that you met with him today."

Annalyn shrugged away from his touch. "Your brother is not to blame for my mood. The wound I bear, you inflicted upon me."

"I hurt you?" Haldir was incredulous, but then his voice hardened. "How so? What have I done?"

"It is what you failed to do. You have not been honest with me. From the onset."

As Annalyn stood to face him, anger rolling off of her in waves, fear arose within him. His nostrils flaring, his fingers closing at his side, he beheld her with a stern frown. "Never have I lied to you."

"No, but you withheld much. Things that I wish I had known. Things I needed to know."

Haldir had never seen such resentment in her eyes before. At a loss as to what to say or do, he merely stood there.

"There are limits to what I can live with, Haldir." In tears, she wrapped her arms around herself, and looked to the skies beyond the mighty boughs. "You should have told me. You should have told me everything."

"Told you what?" he said, though by now he knew.

"Yesterday, when you took me to Cerin Amroth, I said that if we were to join our lives, that I would not have you mourn my loss for years unnumbered. That I wanted you to find joy again one day. Wed another if need be. But that will never happen, will it?"

Her question tore into him. For once, it was he who could not endure her gaze. She was fuming, that much was clear. But unlike him, her emotions did not build up on the inside. They erupted.

"Will it?" she asked again, her voice laced with anger.

"Nay…" he whispered, for though he had kept these things from her—thinking he would tell her when the time was right—Haldir would not lie to her. It was not in his nature to do such a thing.

"I should have seen this coming," she said, "For that is the way things have always been between us. When first I met you, I knew little, if anything, of Elves. Myths you were. But ignorant as I was, I desired to know more, and I endeavoured to learn."

She seemed tired all of a sudden, exhausted even, her hand rising to smooth her hair back. "Everyday that I spent with you, I listened, I observed, and when I wondered about certain things, I asked. And yet, for all that you shared, you kept things from me, and I had to guess most of the time." A bitter laugh echoed before dying out. "For pity's sake, it was not until I kissed you that I learned you were truly immortal. And by then it was too late. I already had feelings for you. Your longevity, Aman, the fact that the time of the Elves is apparently over… it seems I am always the last to know. That is most unfair."

Unable to gainsay her words, Haldir lowered his head in shame. "It was not my intent to deceive you. Nor would I ever seek to hurt you."

Dejected, she moved away from him, leaving her wine behind and putting distance between them. "I know that when you're out there, leading your soldiers, that there is much that you need to keep inside. Your doubts and your fears. That I understand. But when you give your heart to someone, when you plan on building an actual life together… that is not the time to hold back." Sniffling and blinking back tears, Annalyn finally met his gaze. "Truth—the full truth—and honestly, always. Without those things, what hope do we have?"

As her feet carried her toward a mallorn, she looked up, and placed a hand to its silvery bark. "I saw something earlier tonight." Her anger had mostly faded, leaving sorrow in its wake. "I took a wrong path while I was searching for you, and I… I peered into Galadriel's mirror. I saw our story. I know how it will end."

Even as it sank, a warning arose in his heart. "Galadriel herself says that the mi—"

"That the mirror shows many things, yes, I know. She told me." Annalyn faced him once more. "Still, what I saw could very well come to pass, and it is nothing short of tragic. I saw you. I saw what my death will do to you. Oh, Haldir…" He voice broke.

Painfully aware of the space between them, Haldir wondered if he was about to lose her. Gripped with nigh overwhelming distress, he schooled his features as best he could, and narrowed the gap. As he braved a touch to her cheek, her eyes fell closed.

"Your brother said that it is not too late. You and I both know what he meant. By ending this folly, by ending this foolish fairytale that we spun for ourselves, I can spare you from all this."

"Nay," he breathed and pulled her into his arms, nearly crushing her body against his.

Though she stiffened at first, Annalyn ultimately allowed the embrace. Her arms wrapping around his torso, she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, her voice hitching when she said, "And I will do it."

His heart dropped in his chest. In truth, he could scarcely draw breath. Easing away so he could search her eyes, Haldir asked, "What are you saying?"

Her lip quivered, her hazel eyes swimming with tears. "I am saying that when I leave here tomorrow, I mean not to return."

His eyes were like saucers, his arms falling away from her frame.

This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening.

"You are better off without me," she told him. "Your people need you. Your kin love you, and they need you as well. Live your life, Haldir. Live your life, and then when the day comes, you board that ship, and you sail away to Aman with those whom you love."

For the next few moments, he merely stood there, blinking in disbelief as one who has been stabbed in the gut. But then, by sheer force of will, Haldir somehow found his voice again. "It cannot end like this. I cannot lose you like this. I will not."

"It is not your choice to make."

Desperate to find a solution, to keep her from following through with her plan, Haldir pleaded with his eyes. "You wish for the truth? Very well. I shall tell it in full,"—like he had always meant to, when the time was right—"I never meant to hurt you, nor did I intend to mislead you. But, seeing you now, the hurt in your eyes, I realise that I erred." She might not know it by his tone, but a lump had formed in his throat. "Elves mate for life, it is true. But Annalyn, I—" He meant to say that it was already too late for him, that his fae had chosen his love, and this choice could not be undone. But the words died on his tongue before they could even form, smothered by what Annalyn said next.

"I will never be happy here. How could I be? Now that I know the cost." Her words were difficult to bear, but harder still was hearing what followed. Dull words, spoken with an empty stare. "A life of guilt. That is all you can give me."

A lie. He could see it in her eyes. Or at least, he thought he did, until she averted her gaze and blinked it all away.

"I am a daughter of Rohan. You and I… it was a fool's bargain from the start. I never belonged in this place. I never will. Unlike you and your kin, I will age. My body will wither, and you will look upon me with sorrow and pity. That, I cannot bear, Haldir. All I will find here is sorrow. I belong with my own kind. And you belong with yours."

As his world tipped on its axis, Haldir searched her face even as he sifted through her words. Did she mean it? Was she lying to protect him? She must be. He couldn't tell, though. He who was usually adept at reading others.

He. Couldn't. Tell.

"I want to go home," Annalyn said at last, as if she was dead inside. "I need to go home."

"But yesterday you said—"

"I was deluding myself. We both were."

Her words barely registered. He could practically feel the ground swaying beneath his feet. Reeling. Haldir was reeling.

Summoning all the strength he could muster, he reached out to her one last time. It couldn't end this way.

His trembling hands found her tear-stained cheeks, his thumbs sweeping the salty trails as her shoulders bobbed in time with her quiet sobs. By the time he kissed her mouth, Haldir was silently weeping, too.

"I will never be happy here. How could I be? Now that I know the cost." If she hadn't said those words, he would have dropped to his knees and begged her to stay. But doing so would be utterly selfish. Could I knowingly inflict such pain? As the answer materialised, all he could do was hold to her, pouring all that he felt in this one kiss. Their very last. Nay, he wanted to cry.

As expected, Annalyn was the one to sever the kiss. Hand rising to her mouth, she took a step back, then another. After an endless moment, her eyes rose to meet his, but she spoke not, and neither did he.

Before he knew it, she had turned around and was running away. And though it killed him, he let her. He had to.

She had said it herself. She could never be happy here, and all he wanted was her happiness.

Utterly broken, he watched her until she had all but disappeared from his sight. Then, hardening his heart against all that he felt, Haldir turned away from the love of his immortal life. After tarrying by the statues for a good long while, he looked northward and stalked through the city with one destination in mind.

In the end, Haldir found his youngest brother on the terrace. With wine in hand, he was loitering by the kitchens, no doubt waiting for him.

"You," Haldir said, pointing as he passed him by. "A word if you will."

His expression revealing little, Rúmil gave a single nod and followed after him.

The Elves who were gathered around the nearby table were all staring. Some were wide-eyed. Others exchanged baffled glances. Besieged by anger and sorrow, Haldir paid them no mind, and took to the winding stairs, heading straight to Rúmil's home.

"Why did you interfere?" he demanded once the two were alone, his voice booming against pale walls. "What gave you the right?!"

"What gave me the right?" His brother echoed, and seemed incredulous. "What of that poor girl? She had no idea!"

He narrowed his eyes at him. "Do not feign concern. You never much cared for her."

"In that, you are wrong," Rúmil countered as Haldir challenged him with an accusing stare. "I just never liked how you lost your head the moment she strayed into these woods. Because the brother I know would not have led her company across the river that day. The brother I know would have sent them the way they came. Instead, you took a liking to her, and do not deny it. Even if you did not realise it at the time, I saw it. I am quite certain Orophin did as well. And if he did not, then he does now. As does everyone. A Marchwarden of Lothlórien forfeiting his life to love a mortal."

"Have you any idea what you have done?" Haldir hissed.

"I do." Rúmil held his gaze without flinching. "And I harbour no regrets. She deserved to know. You know this."

He did. And yet, it was not supposed to happen in this way. Not like this.

"I meant to tell her, and I would have. It was not your place, Rúmil. It was not your place!" His chest was heaving at this point, his fist clenched in a white-knuckled grip. Up until this night, the notion of striking his brother would have been unthinkable. But now his hand twitched, itching to do just that. "She means not to return, thanks to you."

Rúmil lowered his head at that, in relief or shame, Haldir could not tell, and cared not.

"She is doing the right thing." His brother's words floated on a whisper.

"The right thing?"

"Yes, the right thing. By walking away, she is sparing you from a world of hurt and unending grief."

Haldir scoffed at that, and turned around in a futile effort to hide his bitter tears. If you only knew.

"Can you honestly say that it would be worth it?" At his silence, Rúmil prodded further. "Would loving her be worth the unrelenting grief you would feel? I am your brother, and I know you. If you bind yourself to her, you will never recover from her death."

A beat went by. Haldir had to look away.

"She will die, Haldir. Before you have a chance to blink. Think of it."

A shroud of silence fell about the room. It was a moment before Haldir could look at Rúmil again. As both brothers stared at the other, Haldir hardened his features, and heaved a trembling breath. In anguish and bitterness he said, "You think I have not?"

And then he left.


The lie she had told was pressing down upon her, too heavy and terrible to bear. I lied to him, she kept on thinking. Even after all she had said regarding truth and openness, she had lied to Haldir, saying she could never be happy here.

Nothing could be further from the truth. She would have been happy with him. Of that she had no doubt. But her happiness, she now knew, would have come at a terrible cost. I cannot be so selfish. I cannot inflict such pain on him.

"Truth—the full truth—and honestly, always." She had uttered those very words tonight, and then she had done the exact opposite. You are a hypocrite, Annalyn. A hypocrite of the worst sort.

Nevertheless, she had lied to protect him. To spare him.

Needing air and needing space, Annalyn ran and ran until she came to the city gates.

Finding that they were closed, she tried to open them, rattling the handles back and forth, but to no avail. "Would someone open the gates!" she raged. But the doors would not yield to her demands, nor would they open with the loud pounding of her fist. Wearied, Annalyn cursed inwardly, and sagged a little. At length, her forehead thudded against the wood. "Please," she begged quietly in Sindarin, and the hidden guards granted her request at last.

In the beginning, her feet carried her at a walk, then faster and faster still. Before long, Annalyn was running again, along the cobbled and curving road surrounding the city. Overhead, the open skies were dotted with a thousand stars, yet their beauty was lost to her.

Her desperate pace quickened. If she ran fast enough, perhaps she could escape her turmoil. Anything except this, she thought as her heart crumbled in the hollow space that was her chest.

Sorrow gave way to despair. By the time she had reached the starlit meadow of Cerin Amroth, the emotions had become a tempest, wild heaving waves of misery and anger.

"Why?" She cried helplessly into the night. "What have I done to deserve this?"

Never before had she beseeched Eru in such a manner—for it was not the way of her people—but Annalyn could not help it this time. Her cries echoed once more. "Why must I always lose so much? Why must I be sundered from all those that I love?" Sorrow. Anguish. Rage. "Why?!" she bellowed again. Her fists closed at her sides.

No answer. Not even the wind.

Annalyn turned on the spot, scanning the skies as if looking for Eru himself. In truth, she felt like screaming, yelling out her anger until her breath was spent. She nearly did.

Instead, she fell to her knees, her voice breaking at last. "Why did you cast me on his path if I am not meant to love him?"

Annalyn buried her face in her hands. You fool, she said to herself and truly meant it.

Love and joy. She was not meant for such things.

Yet Annalyn had somehow found both, living it for a brief moment in time before reality had stepped in. A bitter sound rose in her throat. You were deluding yourself. Lying to yourself. He is an Elf. To love him is to annihilate him.

As her eyes fell shut, Annalyn became aware of a sound, a broken sob followed by a long expression of grief.

It was her. She was making those sounds. It has happened, then. Like a branch under foot, she was broken.

And now half the city would hear. The hidden guards at the gates surely could. The air was so still this night. A mortifying thought came to her then. Perhaps the Lady Galadriel had heard her cries as well. Perhaps she was listening now. Embarrassed and miserable, Annalyn hung her head and beseeched her, too. Please oh please. Be not in my head. Hot tears trickled down her cheeks. May your eyes look away, for I am a most wretched sight.

Her breath hitched, her palms found the grass.

She wept.


To my readers:

I know most of you were hoping for a better outcome in this chapter, and for that I am sorry. I know angst isn't easy to read, and I've laid it on thick throughout this story. But that being said, this plot point isn't something I tacked on at the last minute. From the earliest stages of the story, I was firm in how I wanted this part of the story to play out. But that being said, Annalyn and Haldir's story does not end here. Not like this. There's a lot more to come. So for those who plan on sticking around, know that I appreciate the fact that you're still reading. I promise to work very hard to provide a story that is fulfilling to read.

Once again, thank you for your reviews. I was both humbled and overjoyed when I saw that ODAES had reached 800 comments. When I first started posting, I never expected that many, and it's been the greatest gift.

With the holidays—and the business that ensues—there might be a slight delay in posting the next part. But since I am truly itching to type it out, it shouldn't take forever either. If all goes well, maybe I'll be able to update before New Years. But we'll see.

In the meantime, for those who are looking for something to read, I read a fantastic Aegnor/Andreth story a few days ago. It's a one shot called Brittle And Brief by Ruiniel. For me, the story of Aegnor and Andreth is my favourite in the entire legendarium. So I was quite happy to find this new story. Beautifully written, it's well worth the read.

Anyway, that's it for now. For those who celebrate the holidays, I wish you a merry Christmas and a happy 2020!

Until next time!

CygnusRift