As always, I wish to thank all my readers, as well as those who have recently favorited or are following this story.

To my reviewers: Guest, Hexzhana, durinsdaughter2469btw, DarkLordofMemes, totomax, starrat, Tobiramamara, Ruiniel, Doria Nell, SmallLittleCagedBird, xXxLaLaxXx, GaaraSandNiN, AshleyLeigh, ladyville, leward1992, Blue1258, leelee202, TheRadiantFire, Allana Winchester, and Cricklewood16. Sorry I haven't replied individually, like I usually aim to do. My only excuse is that the holidays have been rather busy. That said, I loved hearing from each and every one of you. Because the last chapter was a tough read—sorry for the tears, guys!—I was not expecting so many comments this time around. So thank you! If you're reading this now, know that I am grateful for your patience and your continued interest in this drawn-out plot bunny of mine.

For those who celebrated Christmas, I hope it was a good one. Since this will likely be my last update of 2019, I will take this opportunity to wish you all the best in the new year. To quote Gandalf in Two Towers, "One stage of your journey is over, another begins." Let's see what 2020 has in store for Haldir and Annalyn. ;-)

CygnusRift xx


CHAPTER LVIII

THOSE YOU LEAVE BEHIND

Her bath had long since gone cold.

Though dawn was drawing nigh, it was dark beyond the closed curtains, and the bathing room was lit solely by a few scattered candles.

After returning from Cerin Amroth smelling of sweat and grass, Annalyn had opted to bathe instead of sleeping. What would be the point anyway? She would find no rest tonight. Not after what I have done.

Alone with her miserable thoughts, her face angled toward her knees, Annalyn hadn't moved in a while. Honestly, she had neither the will nor the strength to do so.

Even now, she harboured great remorse over the lie she had told. It was the only way, Annalyn kept telling herself, thinking of Haldir. It's over. We are over. And I was the one to end it. Her heart—her very soul—wept at the notion.

It was the right thing to do. As doubt niggled at the back of her mind, she blinked an extended blink, and repeated the thought in hopes that her heart would finally believe it. It was the right thing to do. The right and only thing to do...

Sitting in waist-deep water, her arms wrapped about her knees, Annalyn opened her eyes again. Her stare was vacant, the bathwater completely still save for the droplets that fell from her wet hair every now and again, disturbing the surface in a slow drip, drip, drip.

On occasion, the nearby curtains would rustle in the wind. It was a while before the sound finally drew her eyes, reminding her of the inevitable.

Knowing it was nearly time to leave, Annalyn summoned what was left of her courage and rose from her bath. No sooner had she stepped out than she dried herself, using one of those remarkable swaths of fabric that absorbed water like nothing else. After just a few swipes, her hair was only slightly damp. It wouldn't be long before her locks dried altogether. Too numb to appreciate the now-familiar convenience, Annalyn soon donned a robe, fastening it closed before venturing toward her room, where her belongings were mostly all packed. Only a few items remained on her bed.

When a gentle knock sounded, Annalyn turned to see Ithriel standing in the open doorway. Her features were sad, but then she knew what had happened. She had known even prior to Annalyn's return from Cerin Amroth. But exactly how she had come to know was unclear. Perhaps she had seen Haldir. Perhaps she had spoken to Rúmil. The "how" was not important. Ithriel's comforting presence, on the other hand, was.

Normally, Annalyn would have preferred solitude. But her heartache was such that she desperately needed a friend right now. "You do not have to stand out there. Come in."

With a heavy heart, Annalyn plopped down on the edge of the bed, her gaze going out into the night, where a gentle rain now fell. "You know, this is my second time saying farewell to these woods. Both times it rained."

The bed dipped slightly. Ithriel was now sitting beside her.

"May I?" the healer asked, holding a hair brush to Annalyn's damp tresses.

Too tired to object, she gave a nod. In a small corner of her heart, Annalyn even craved the ritual, for it had been long since someone else had brushed her hair. The last person to do so had been her mother, more than a decade ago.

"I saw Haldir earlier, stalking past my dwelling on his way home," Ithriel confessed as she ran the bristles down the length of her hair. The motion was soothing, even with the current deadness of her mood. "He refused to speak to me, but I knew enough to piece together what happened. He and Rúmil had words a few moments prior. Even from my talan, I couldn't help but overhear. Varda knows they were shouting loud enough." By the tremulous breath Ithriel gave, Annalyn could guess at Haldir's frame of mind.

"Seldom have I witnessed such a thing. Haldir… he was… His heart is hurting," her friend supplied, her voice scarcely above a murmur. "At any rate, I overheard part of their argument. I daresay half of Lothlórien did."

Doubtless the news had spread to the other half by now.

"I know my near-brothers. Even Haldir who hides much from the world. Beneath his ire was great sorrow." The brush fell away from Annalyn's nape. Then Ithriel said her name, a pleading whisper it seemed.

At hearing it, Annalyn turned to meet her friend's gaze.

"Must you do this?" Ithriel asked, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Even now, you wish for me to stay? How can you be in agreement with this? How can you endure the idea of me being with him?" Anger rose within her, for the entire notion went against reason. If you love him as a brother, Annalyn wanted to say to her, but somehow held her tongue. "As much as I resent his words, Rúmil was right."

Ithriel regarded her for a long moment, her features hardening by a fraction. "If Rúmil was right, then why is there remorse in your eyes? I am a sound judge of character, Annalyn, and little escapes my notice. Even now I see it clearly, you do not wish to do this. You do not wish to leave. Again I ask, what is the reason behind the guilt in your eyes?"

"Is it not evident? I am mortal and he is not. We both know how it would end."

But Ithriel was not so easily fooled. Quietly, she said, "There is more to it than that. Something weighs on your conscience. What is it?"

Annalyn stared at her for a moment more. You wish for me to speak? she nearly bit back. You wish to know the awful truth?

"Please, whatever it is… tell me."

If only it were that easy. "Not this time. I cannot."

"Why?"

No longer able to think clearly, Annalyn pinched the bridge of her nose. "Why?" she echoed, then opened her stupid mouth. "Because Haldir must never know." A groan escaped her throat. For pity's sake! Shout it from the rooftop, why don't you?

"What must he never know?" Her voice was gentle, though slightly at odds with the narrowing of her ice-blue eyes. When Annalyn refused to answer, the healer looked downward for a moment. "A secret, then." There was a heavy pause, as if Ithriel was coming to a decision. At last, she said, "I would keep it."

What? Annalyn's mouth was agape.

What Ithriel was offering, as much as she desired it…

No, I cannot burden her with this. Still, before she could stop herself, the words spilled out. "You would?"

Ithriel gave a solemn nod. "You and I are friends. I would do this for you, to help or to alleviate the pain in your heart."

"It wouldn't. Nothing could." Nevertheless, Annalyn was actually considering the offer. As selfish as it was, she had never needed a friend as badly as she needed one now. Releasing a heavy sigh, she dragged a hand over her tired features. "Haldir is your kin. To keep this secret... It would not be fair to you."

"And carrying it alone? How is that fair to you? Whatever is gouging you on the inside, Haldir will never know. You have my word." The look in her eyes conveyed that she meant it. But then, she was an Elf, and Elves kept their promises.

After weighing the offer with great care, Annalyn rose and walked clear across the room. The need to confide, to confess, was all encompassing. Swallowing her self-loathing, Annalyn opened her mouth, and the words tumbled out. "I lied to him." I lied to him and I hate myself for it. At length, Annalyn turned to face her friend once more. "He deserved and expected the truth and I looked him in the eye and I lied to him."

Seconds passed. "Why would you do such a thing?" Contrary to what Annalyn had expected, the words held no trace of anger. Instead, Ithriel was compassion incarnate, her eyes mostly sad.

"I had to. For his sake."

It was a moment before Ithriel could absorb the information and prod further, asking what the lie was.

Wilting under her friend's well-meaning scrutiny, Annalyn turned to stare out the window. "Earlier tonight, I gazed into Galadriel's mirror and I saw much of what lay ahead. I saw our life together." For a brief instant, she saw their wedding. Haldir had looked so radiant and happy. Holding to that vision, Annalyn allowed a dim smile to paint her mouth. When it vanished, smothered by visions of her death, she continued. "I also saw how he would suffer in the end. And because I cannot bear his pain, I lied by saying that I could never be happy here, that all he could give me was a life of guilt."

"Oh, Annalyn…"

"Guilt I would feel, it is true. But more than anything, I would be happy. Of this, I am certain. He is the love of my life, Ithriel."

Annalyn's tired feet carried her back to the bed, where she sat heavily and continued. "I will never forget him, nor will I forget all that I found here." She was looking at the floor now, staring without really seeing. "When my parents died, and I begged to follow my uncle into the mountains, many believed that I was fleeing from the memories and the grief. And in the beginning, I believed it also. But it was not so. I realised that over time. I followed them because he and Aldin were my only kin. My home."

Though Ithriel sat unmoving, she was now in tears.

"Their passing has left a void, one that will never wholly be filled. And yet its breadth is not as vast as it once seemed to be, for my heart has grown to encompass other things. Here in Lothlórien, I have found kindness and treasured friends. I even found one that I would gladly call a sister."

Annalyn sought Ithriel's hand. A sad little smile tugged at the corner of both their mouths.

"And yet you forget one," Ithriel whispered.

"I do not forget. I never will. My heart is crumbling, Ithriel, for he holds my heart like no one ever has. I love him, and because I love him, I will depart and mean not to return. It has to be so. Rúmil knows and loves his brother. He spoke truly when he said Haldir would never heal from this. If he and I were to wed, he would grieve forever. I cannot do it, Ithriel. I cannot accept his love, not at such a price."

"What if Rúmil is wrong?" The healer shifted, angling her body toward her. "Haldir is strong. What if he can endure this?"

Why was Ithriel doing this? Offering hope when there was none. "What if he cannot?" Annalyn countered just as soon. "I will not take that chance. I refuse to."

Ithriel lowered her eyes. "There is no changing your mind, then."

Annalyn shook her head. Not this time. "I am sorry."


Night was drawing to a close.

At Ithriel's insistence, Annalyn was clad in her new riding clothes. With her pack slung upon one shoulder, her riding gloves in one hand, she beheld her reflection one more time. Her sword was at her hip, but now Aldin's baldric was secured on her back, the hilt of his longsword visible behind her right shoulder.

Courage, Annalyn.

Exiting her room, she found that Ithriel was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Despite the calmness of her elven features, sorrow seeped at the edges, reaching her kind eyes.

"It is time, then," this one said once they were face to face.

Annalyn beheld her friend. It was indeed time to leave. "I shall never forget you, Ithriel."

"Nor shall I forget you." At these words, the two women shared a sisterly embrace. Blinking back tears, Ithriel said, "Let us walk to the gates together."

Silence reigned beyond the open doorway, for the rain had ceased moments earlier.

Stepping out into the fading night, Annalyn cast one last look at Haldir's home. Contrary to most other dwellings, his was dark. No lights could be seen. Somehow knowing he was not there, she started toward the great spiral staircase, with Ithriel matching her sullen stride.

"Are you certain?" the healer asked as they were nearing the terrace.

"I am," Annalyn replied, cemented in her decision.

"He should know." Ithriel was now wringing her hands. "You should not leave with such a lie between you. He deserves to know."

"You promised," Annalyn reminded her, though it was not needful. Ithriel would keep her word.

While it was clearly against her liking, the healer nodded, and together they walked the rest of the way in silence.

When the gates finally came into view, Annalyn saw that a small group had gathered to say their farewells. Scanning those assembled, she was disappointed but unsurprised to find that Haldir was not there. As her heart clenched painfully in her chest, she beheld the friends who had come. Glirwen and Bestedir were there, along with Taerion, and of course Ninael, who awaited her by their horses. At present, all of them were silent.

As she walked forth, Annalyn noted a lone figure, standing apart from the others.

Rúmil.

Looking to Ithriel, she couldn't miss the resentment in her elven eyes, resentment that was aimed solely at Haldir's youngest brother. There could be no doubt, Rúmil would be hearing from the healer before long. For now, however, Ithriel held her tongue and remained where she stood while Annalyn squared her shoulders and went to him first.

Gone was the haughtiness, the air of disapproval and disdain. Instead, Rúmil regarded her with what looked to be genuine regret. "What I said to you…" he began once they were face to face. "My words, however harsh, were not born of ill-feelings."

"I know." Dull words, as blank as her expression. "You spoke out of love and concern for your brother. Had I been in your shoes, I would have done the same."

Rúmil seemed to appreciate that. "For the longest time, there were many who believed that my brother's heart had gone cold to the idea of love. Indeed, he can be most stern. More often than not, he is blind to all but his duty. But behind the walls he has built for himself, Haldir has a big heart."

That she knew.

"Still he leads, first and foremost, with his head. None may earn his trust unless they are worthy of it. For him to love you means that you are a light indeed. And I see it now. The choice you have made…" His throat bobbed. "Leaving for his sake… It takes a selfless person to do such a thing. Henceforth, I will never doubt your love for my brother."

As if his words were not surprising enough, what Rúmil did next nearly toppled her over. With pain flashing in his eyes, he actually bowed before her, lingering in heartfelt thanks.

Not knowing what to say or how to feel, Annalyn gave a small nod as he straightened, and made her way to her friends.

Going first to Taerion, she noted the look of utter sadness in his eyes.

"Thus we part ways," he said, bowing in Elf-fashion. "I shall miss you, young one."

Her throat clogged with emotion, Annalyn reached out and embraced him. "I shall miss our friendship, young Taerion."

Her thoughts going to her friends, and most of all to Haldir, she tried to blink her tears away.

"I trust you've remembered your sketchbook?" Taerion eased away from her.

"I have it with me, yes. And I shall treasure it, always. Thank you, dear friend."

Next, Annalyn went to Bestedir and Glirwen. Sharing a brief but heartfelt goodbye with the wedded pair, she then turned to Ithriel for one last farewell.

Having said their goodbyes before leaving the house, no words were exchanged. When they embraced a final time, Ithriel was crying silent tears. Her composure hanging by a thread, Annalyn walked away from her almost-sister.

As she approached her horse, she looked to each of her friends in turn. Ithriel's head was bowed, her hands clasped in from of her as her shoulders shook. Seeing this, Glirwen went to her and smoothed a comforting hand down the healer's back.

"It is time." Ninael's quiet words severed the stillness.

For the first time since their meeting, the fiery undercurrents of her personality were hidden behind a wall of grave solemnity. Ninael was a soldier, yes. But right now, Annalyn saw the commander in her, the inner strength that made her fit to lead.

Climbing in the saddle, Ninael asked if she was ready to leave.

No. I will never be ready for such a thing, Annalyn thought as her eyes went to the trees and footbridges, desperately searching for the Elf who had not only captured her heart, but earned her love. Seeing no sign of him, Annalyn hardened herself against the pain that now threatened to overwhelm her. "Let us depart."

The gates opened, and the two rode forth. But as they passed beneath the lamps, Annalyn drew rein and looked over her shoulder one last time. For some reason, her eyes were drawn to a nearby mallorn. Haldir? For a split second, she thought she might have seen him, high up amid the silvery boughs, but it was nothing more than a shadow. Her aching heart was playing tricks on her mind, it seemed. She was imagining things, envisioning what she wished to see.

Haldir was not there. He was not looking at her from afar.

Hot tears surged in her eyes.

No. He would not have lingered. He would be far away from her by now, on the marches north of here.

Cobalt knickered and pranced. Her heart in pieces, she kept staring at the mallorn, stared and stared even though it was time to go.


Annalyn had sensed him.

She had sensed him and turned, her eyes scanning the very tree in which he now sat. But Haldir was cloaked and hooded. Hidden behind a leafy branch, he moved not, nor did he call out. His heart was breaking, and though he maintained a stoic façade, he did not wish for anyone to see him like this.

Why am I doing this? In truth, he was angry with himself for being here, for putting himself through such turmoil and misery. He should have been well on his way to the fences by now—as he had first intended—yet here he was, lingering in a tree like a heartsick fool, needing to see her one last time.

One last time…

It was a theme with them. Always had been. Ever since they had met, all they had done was delay the inevitable—one last stroll through the city, one last evening alone together, one last dinner, one last kiss. But that was, and always had been, their destiny. As a Secondborn Child of Ilúvatar, Annalyn was never meant to stay in his life.

Earlier that night, when he had gone home with the sole intention of changing his clothes and gathering his weapons so he could head out to the fences, Haldir had found himself unable to leave just yet. In silence, he had lingered in his darkened home, in the room he had falsely believed would be theirs.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he had reached into his pocket and stared at the silver betrothal rings he had procured earlier that same day, before Rúmil had intervened, turning his life to ash. One ring for him, and a smaller one for her. A gift and a token, that he had hoped to give her at the end of dinner. It was but a foolish dream, he now mused. The delicate bands would never grace their fingers.

And so he had brooded and wept, and when he had suffered all he could, he had risen to change his garb. Once he had fetched and donned his weapons, he had made his way here. Instead of marching out into the surrounding woods to join his brethren, however, Haldir had been unable to go any further. Instead, he had climbed up here, tarrying in hopes that he might see her one more time.

Now he watched the woman he loved, seeing her mortal face from afar. In absolute stillness, he catalogued every detail; those hazel eyes, her brows, her beautiful mouth. He noted the colour in her cheeks, and the wild richness of her hair, that she had tamed with a braid. She was wearing new riding clothes, he noted and liked the blue on her.

A fair woman, he thought, as proud as she was stubborn. So bold and brave, yet gentle of heart.

And I have lost her. I was never meant to have her.

Her searching and sorrowful gaze tugged at his soul. As her eyes lingered, sweeping the leafy boughs in which he had sought refuge, Cobalt pranced beneath her frame. She waited for a moment more, but Haldir could not go to her, no matter how much he yearned to. The pain would simply be too great. It already was.

And so he remained hidden as she smoothed her horse's neck with a gloved hand. Then, with an air of sadness and regret, she was riding away, following Ninael as their path carried her out of view and out of his life.


So here was chapter 58. Initially, I meant to include more in this part, but as I read it, I felt that it worked better if I ended it here. The next part will have a bit more of Lothlórien, the Southern Fences to be exact. Then onward with the journey.