Hey, everyone! Because real life got hectic, and was therefore kicking my butt, I thought it would take me longer to write this chapter. But the universe took pity on me, it seems. We experienced a pretty heavy snow storm, and I got an unexpected day off right before the weekend. I must say, I'm quite enjoying the free time.

For those who haven't read my recent progress reports, I decided to do a complete re-read of my story, to refresh my memory and lessen the chance of making continuity mistakes. I haven't completed the re-read yet, but I'm progressing. So if I'm taking a bit longer between my next few postings, that's probably why.

Once again, I wish to thank all my readers and reviewers: starrat, Allana Winchester, silentmayhem, DarkLordofMemes, durinsdaughter2469btw, WickedGreene13, totomax, Ruiniel (thanks for the multiple comments!), princessnerra, SmallLittleCagedBird, Rogue's Queen, mystarlight, leelee202, Raider-K, leward1992, Tobiramamara, AshleyLeigh, Cricklewood16, ladyville, Blue1258, MommaWolf18, and KathrannofQuade. Thanks for leaving your thoughts on chapter 61. I truly appreciate it.


CHAPTER LXII

DUALITY

Annalyn awoke with a start.

Disoriented, a hand pressed over her thundering heart, she sat up at once, her gaze darting all about.

Walls, pale and made of canvas. She was in a tent. The one given by the Elves. At present, a dimness lay over everything—not quite the darkness of night, but that of predawn.

Willing her blood and her racing mind to slow, she breathed in deep, once, twice, a third time. A short distance from her tent, the Rohirric camp was stirring to life. By sound alone, Annalyn could easily imagine the soldiers, rising or walking around, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, while the remnants of their campfire smouldered and smoked in a wide circle of burnt wood and ash. Unlike her, these men had slept out in the open last night.

"Morning," she heard one of them say to another, his sleepy tone carrying over the soft nicker of horses.

Alone in her bed of furs, Annalyn rose not, but sat, unmoving. Her thoughts were in disarray, her heart caught in such turmoil, she knew not what to do with herself.

Confused. Annalyn was so very confused, her entire body tingling in the aftermath of…

Her dream came rushing back to her, all of it at once. Meeting Haldir in the middle of that footbridge. Kissing him, then somehow ending up at his home where they had climbed up to his bedroom and made slow, passionate love for the first time.

Wonderful but surely misguided, those intimate moments were now etched into her mind.

What has gotten into us?

Normally, making love with someone would be a step forward. In this case, it felt like turning around and walking in a never-ending circle. A maddening and most tempting circle that left her confused but definitely wanting more.

Hold to your purpose. Remember the decision you made, she told herself and ran her fingers through her sleep-rumpled hair.

As difficult as it had been at the time, Annalyn had managed the seemingly impossible; she had left the Golden Wood and walked away from the love of her life, making what she had thought was a clean break, for his sake. Instead, she and Haldir were now caught in this burning love affair—a second and hidden life as it were, completely separate from their waking existence.

Why they would allow such a torturous thing was beyond her. And yet they did, and would, until they couldn't anymore. Such was the decision they had made in those final moments before the stirrings of dawn had awoken her body, pulling her from his arms.

"Did you mean it?" Annalyn had panted as they had writhed in concert.

"Mean what?" he had replied while moving within her. Slow, even strokes that left her trembling and gasping. Full and complete, that's what joining with him felt like.

"Is this to be our first and only time?"

Another plunge and he had stilled within her. His eyes finding hers, Haldir had answered, solemnly. "At the time, I meant it, yes."

"And now?"

He had searched her face then, his fingers sweeping her hair away from her forehead as he had breathed, "I do not know."

To put an end to these dreams or to keep going? A delicate question indeed.

"Why do you ask?" he had said with what seemed like tentative hope.

"Because…" In hindsight, she should have been more guarded with her words. "I'm not ready to let you go."

No sooner had she spoken than Annalyn realised how it sounded, how her confession threatened the well-meaning lie she had crafted when she had said she could never be happy with him.

As her mind vaulted back to that awful night—the last time she had seen her love in the flesh—anguish gripped her heart, squashing it within the confines of her chest.

"A life of guilt." Those had been her words to him then, in those heartbreaking moments by the statues of Amroth and Nimrodel. "That is all you can give me."

Though necessary, the lie had left the bitterest taste in her mouth, one that lingered to this day. "I had to," she now told herself before going back to last night's dream. Why did I say such a thing? Why did I admit that I could not let him go?

In the wake of her confession, Haldir had narrowed his eyes at her, his deep and searching gaze seeking to uncover the true meaning behind her careless words. Desperate to maintain the lie she had crafted in Lothlórien—a lie born out of love and the hope that he might live a happy life someday—Annalyn had backtracked by caressing his neck and saying, "These dreams… Doubtless, it is foolish of me, but I cannot let them go just yet. I am not ready."

Haldir had closed his eyes for a heartbeat, then two. "Ah, firiel… nor am I." With that, his brow had come to rest against hers, his breath warm as it'd mingled with her own. "Although some day soon we surely must."

At once relieved and gutted by his words, Annalyn had said, "But not yet." What was wrong with her? She shouldn't have encouraged these dreams, yet she had been unable to help it, as if some instinctive part of herself was desperate to latch on to him. Like a fervent voice at the back of her mind, it cursed her choice to leave. Even now, she could practically hear it, weeping in supplication, refusing to let him go. As if one half of herself was furious with the other.

In their dream, his kissable mouth had curved into a bittersweet smile. Quietly, he had agreed. "Not yet."

Thus they had decided, and now here she was, living what amounted to a double life, her heart wavering between feverish joy and soul-crushing sadness.

In truth, this inner shift had occurred when she had first dreamed of him—the dream with the lounging couch in the middle of the Horse Plains. From that moment on, everything had seemed off-kilter, and she had wanted nothing more than to dream of him again. Up until their imaginary reunion last night, Annalyn had feared she wouldn't anymore.

What have we gotten ourselves into? In a way, it felt like the world had lurched beneath her feet, and now I'm falling.

According to Ithriel, shared dreams were common amongst the Elves, occurring between those who shared deep bonds of kinship or love. At the time, Annalyn had reasoned that these mind connections were solely a result of what the Elves called sanwe-latya, "thought opening". But could it be more than that? Was there something she was not seeing or understanding here?

For these latest dreams were unmatched in how real they felt, how vivid they were, in how they affected and influenced her, even now.

With angry sweeps of her hand, Annalyn dried her tears, and rolled up the furs she had slept in.

As much as you desire him in waking, you must keep going. He can only be yours in dreams. And only for a time, for sooner or later they would have to make an end to this folly. Though for now, she could not seem to let go.

Indeed, a duality now existed within her, as if her conscious mind was battling against her heart. Given the stakes, her mind could not afford to lose this war. Remember why you left, why you had to.

With the furs bundled and set aside, Annalyn gathered her hair in a braid. Facing the tent's northern wall, she sent her thoughts to him. What I wouldn't give to reunite with you again. To marry you and spend the rest of my mortal life by your side. But truth of the matter was, there was one thing she could not, and would not compromise, and that was his future, the innumerable years that yet lay before him. For Haldir's sake, she could not go back. She could never go back, lest she condemn him to an eternity of grief.

Drawing upon what her mother had called her obstinate side, Annalyn schooled her features, and readied herself to face what promised to be a trying day. In the gathering light, she sought her weapons. Ninael is waiting. There are many leagues before us. Leave your dreams behind. "At least for now," she whispered to herself.

Bending at the waist, she plucked Aldin's baldric from the ground, the buckle clinking as she fastened the leather strap across her chest. After donning her own scabbard, Annalyn had just placed Haldir's handcrafted dagger in her boot when a sudden rush of feeling came over her. It was the strangest sensation, like a blanket of emotion wrapping around her instead of emanating from the inside. First there was this profound sense of awe, laced with what seemed like annoyance and… embarrassment?

Trying to make sense of it, she blinked a few times. But then, as quickly as it had come, the emotions were gone, like mist carried by a sudden wind.

Attributing the sensation to tiredness, an overactive imagination, or both, Annalyn gathered her pack and bundle of furs, and was about to step out into the growing light of day when a mortifying thought came to her. What if Ninael and the soldiers of the Éored knew of her dream? What if she had spoken in her sleep? Had she tossed and turned, moaning Haldir's name like she had done during their imaginary lovemaking?

Since there was no way to know unless she stepped out of her tent, Annalyn gathered her courage and did just that. To her unending relief, Ninael greeted her like she did every morning, and the men in camp offered naught but polite smiles and nods as she passed them by.

Guessing that her secret was safe, Annalyn released the breath she had been holding and strode across the glistening grass. Indeed, a light dew covered the delicate stalks, making the ground somewhat slippery. Carrying her burden over to where Cobalt was tethered, she secured her belongings until all was packed, save for her tent. Turning, Annalyn meant to dismantle it, but Ninael had beaten her to it; her tent was already flattened in a rumpled square.

Intent on helping, she had barely taken a step when a voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Annalyn." Her heart rose in her throat, and her mouth tightened in a line. Curses… Of course Wilmaer would seek her out. I should have known.

Forcing her features into a neutral expression, she hesitated but a moment before facing him.

"I was sorry to hear of your uncle and cousin," he offered quietly, his hand rising to stroke Cobalt's neck. His handsome features were subdued this morning, his brows creasing ever so slightly when he said, " I understand they died honourably, not that it helps. I know how dear they were to you."

Despite the pain he had once inflicted upon her, Annalyn appreciated his words enough to nod and express her thanks. But as she went to excuse herself, stating that she and Ninael had a long road ahead of them, Wilmaer halted her retreat by placing a hand on her arm.

"I know I deserve it not, but I thought… I mean I was hoping that you and I might speak for a moment."

"For what purpose?" Looking around to make sure no one could overhear, Annalyn lowered her voice. "What came to pass cannot be undone."

"I realise this. But please, I ask but for a chance to explain. Just this once, as I have longed to do since that wretched day in the stable, when I made a most horrible mistake and lost you in the process." His eyes lowered at that, and a minute part of her almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

As the sun finally broke over the horizon, spilling warm orange light across the Éored's encampment, Annalyn crossed her arms, her foot tapping on the ground. Hoping this wasn't a mistake, she relented with a nod and curt, "Fine, but speak quickly."

"Ethelind…"—that was the maid's name—"I did not love her. I never will."

"And what? You believe that makes it alright?" She scoffed, surprised by the intensity of her rising anger. I should be over this. I was!

His voice was low but desperate. "I only kissed her that one time. I was confused." His brown hair swayed as he shook his head. "I wasn't thinking clearly." Shifting his helm from one arm to the other, he dragged a hand down his bearded chin.

"Confused?" she countered, scarcely believing her ears.

"I loved you," he went on, his gaze repentant. "I still do. But you were gone all the time. I—"

Her brows shot toward her hairline. "Oh, so you mean to say that the fault is mine?" Incredulous laughter bubbled in her throat. With bitterness in her heart, Annalyn rubbed her tired eyes, and whispered, mostly to herself, "Unbelievable."

Angered by his nonsensical excuse, she raised a halting hand, and looked him square in the eyes—his cheating blue-grey eyes. "You know what? We are done here. I have had my fill of your words."

Walking away had never felt so good.

He loved her still. How laughable. He did not know the meaning of love. But I do, she mused, her thoughts on Haldir. So loyal, so true, he would have surrendered his immortal future to have and love her as a wife.

At this point, Ninael had already folded the tent, rolling it over the collapsible poles that kept it upright. Her elven eyes flickering toward Wilmaer's retreating form, she arched a brow in scarcely veiled disdain.

Annalyn sighed. "I gather you overheard."

A small, apologetic smile found its way to her mouth. "Forgive me. I did not mean to."

A shrug and then, "There is naught to forgive. I was going to tell you anyway, if not today then soon."

"Well, I say it is good that you are rid of him."

Now Annalyn laughed. "On that we agree."

As Ninael proceeded to fasten the tent atop one of her saddle-bags, she looked over her shoulder, and asked, "Have you broken your fast?"

"Not as yet, no."

"In that case, here." Reaching for the pouch at her belt, the soldier produced a leaf-wrapped section of lembas, and lobbed it over.

"I see you two are making ready to leave," came a familiar voice.

Turning, Annaly saw that it was none other than the Second Marshal of Rohan. As Théodred made his way over, his gait was solid but easy-going, his smile broad and kind. Befitting his station, his armour was beautiful to behold. The breast plate and pauldrons were a dark iron grey, with red and gold accents here and there. Beneath the suit itself, his shirt of mail was tinted in a shade of burnished bronze. His vambraces, she noted, were adorned with elegant patterns of the same gold as the helm he carried at his side.

"I trust you slept well," he said as he neared.

Annalyn inclined her head. "I did. Thank you."

Théodred's smile began to fade. His eyes swept the western horizon. "I wish I could promise you safety during your travels, alas my Éored cannot be in two places at once. As you know, Orcs are lurking about. I would advise caution as you journey west."

"We will heed your words," Annalyn replied, though she and Ninael knew enough to be prudent, with or without his warning.

"In that case, I shall take my leave. My men and I must resume our patrol." With a nod, he took a few steps backward. "Lest we are delayed, my Éored should pass through your village within a fortnight or so. Until next we meet, then." His smile had returned.

"Until next we meet," Annalyn replied, smiling in kind as the prince spun on his heel, his pale hair catching the light of the rising sun as he strode away.

The southerly wind held steady that day, stirring their hair and clothing as the two rode toward the distant peaks of the White Mountains. As the midday sun tracked across the cloudless sky, Annalyn rubbed the back of her neck, and tried to relax.

Though she couldn't quite pinpoint the source of her discomfiture, something felt different today. With each passing hour, a knot was tightening within her being. Faint but definitely noticeable, it felt like a tug almost, like she was attached to something, and the rope was pulling tighter and tighter as she continued forth.

Shifting in the saddle, Annalyn straightened her spine, and focused instead on the gentle swaying of her horse. While the sensation remained, her efforts proved fruitful, and the tugging sensation lessened over time.

Sometime in the afternoon, as her elven companion guided them toward a narrow stream far off in the distance, Annalyn pulled on the reins, a surprised breath catching in her throat.

Her mouth was hanging open. The mysterious blanket of emotions had returned. The feelings, however, were different this time around. Determination, she thought, and something else... something akin to a... sense of duty.

Her eyes turned north, toward the elven forest which now lay far beyond her sight. No. It cannot be.

"Annalyn?"

Only vaguely aware that her companion had doubled-back and was now riding closer, Annalyn gave a brisk shake of her head. Her mind was playing tricks on her. It had to be.

"Is aught the matter?" Ninael inquired, clearly concerned.

"No." Annalyn looked to her friend, and faked a smile. "It is nothing."

Ignoring the strange influx of emotions—thankfully they were fading already—she rode past the soldier, saying, "This day is fair. Let us feel the wind on our faces." With these words, she guided her horse into a trot, then a canter. Ever westward. Toward the small village that would forever be her home.


Author notes:

So here was chapter 62.

At the close of chapter 61, I know many of you were left feeling confused by Annalyn's apparent reversal. In hindsight, I totally understand your confusion. So as I wrote this newest chapter, I aimed to shed light on her sudden wish to indulge in these dreams. However, since chapter 62 was written in her POV, I found it rather tricky to write, mainly because I was trying to convey something that the character is not yet aware of. It's something that Haldir knows. Something that I know, and the readers know. But Annalyn? Yeah, she's still somewhat in the dark.

Here, I will endeavour to explain.

At this point, it would be important to note that, unlike Haldir, Annalyn remains unaware of the true nature of their connection. She does not know that Haldir's soul has chosen her as his love, and that her own soul is responding in kind. Deep within herself, she feels it, though. And it's affecting and influencing her in ways she does not fully understand.

After leaving Lothlórien, the first dream she had of him acted as a catalyst of sorts. It's like a part of her (her soul) suddenly snapped to full awakeness, and is now trying to override her choice. A choice she made with the rational and compassionate part of her mind. It's essentially a war within herself, one she doesn't yet understand—though she has begun to wonder as to the cause.

But as we know, Annalyn is stubborn, therefore she now rides for home, fueled mostly by her strength of will and the unwavering love she feels for the Elf she left behind. At present time, she intends to live out her days alone, hoping Haldir will eventually lead a full and happy life without her.

As for how long these dreams will continue, and what consequences they might bring, you'll have to read on to find out.

For those who wish to stick around, I promise there are many twists and turns ahead.

Once again, I wish to thank all who shared their thoughts on chapter 61. I still can't believe I'm edging 900 reviews. When I started posting this, I never expected so many!

Anyway, I hope you are all doing well. Until next time!

CygnusRift


***Progress report, February 14th, 2020: So my re-read continues, though not as quickly as I had hoped. It was a busy week, plus I slipped and fell at work. Ouch, yeah. Hopefully, the pain and stiffness will go away soon. As for my story, I've been taking notes and trying to organise the plot for the next part. I have a series of events planned for the next several chapters, but right now I'm trying to settle on the actual order of those events. It's slow-go because I keep changing my mind about some things. It's quite frustrating, and I'm mad at my brain for being so indecisive. But I'll get there. I promise. On an up note, it's gonna be another three-day weekend for me. And I plan on doing much reading and writing, hopefully with productive results. I hope you are all doing well. Until next time, everyone!

***Progress report, February 15th, 2020: I made progress today! I think I finally figured out what to include in my chapter. I even wrote a chunk of it. Hoping to write more tomorrow. :-)

***Progress report, February 17th, 2020: After dedicating my weekend writing time to this story, I am happy to report that it's coming along. The first half of chapter 63 is all written, but the second half is kind of a mess right now (I need to figure out the dialogue). If all goes well, I should be able to update sometime within the next few days *fingers crossed*. Thanks for being so patient, everyone! I'd rather take a bit longer to make sure it reads well, than rush and post something that isn't up to par.

***Progress report, February 21st, 2020: Sorry for my slowness, everyone. I promise, except for yesterday (I wasn't feeling well), I've been working on this story every day. I made progress on this current chapter, but I don't know, it felt like something was missing. Today, I've been working on adding a scene at the beginning. Hopefully, if all goes well, I will finish over the weekend. Again, I'm sorry it's taking a bit longer than usual. While I know where I'm headed with this, I sometimes have a hard time deciding what to include in a chapter, and how to make it all flow together. Anyway, thanks again for being so patient. I suppose I should get back to writing now. Happy Friday, everyone! :-)