The Lingering Darkness Fan-fiction

[Nerindel]

Amandur

The morning sounds of woodland critters stirring echoed in Amandur’s ears as he silently searched the woods to the rear of the last house, with dawns light he had risen and sought to help look for the elusive bard, now that his arm was healed. still the bard had not been found and fear was mounting that perhaps he had found what he had been looking for! But what that actually was Amandur remained uncertain, yes he looked for Naiore but to the ranger it seemed that the old elf longed of something else entirely a release perhaps. Shaking his head wearily, he crouched again to examine the earth at his feet, but once again, he found nothing but animal tracks and woodland debris.

Looking about he decided that with the time that had passed he might be better searching the higher ground, he was just turning when a sudden snap of dried twigs caught his ear, reaching for his sword he silently crept in the direction of the sound, it had come from behind him back the way he had just come. Footsteps drew closer how many he could not tell, pressing himself behind a large pine he held his breath and waited sword ready for who ever approached.

He let out a relieved sigh and instantly lowered his sword as he saw Léspheria and Vanwe enter the clearing, Lespheria had bent in almost the same spot he had to examine the ground. “Nothing but animal tracks and the usual flora and fauna debris!” he grinned wryly slipping his sword back into his sheath and slipping out of his concealment. The two women looked up with a start, but relaxed as they realised it was him.

“I believe he may have taken to higher ground by now,” he continued pointing towards the northern ridges of the valley.

“He most certainly will have needed to stop for water some where,” Léspheria nodded wiping the soil from her hands.

“Do you think we are too late?” Vanwe asked nervously.

“I do not know, as yet I have found no trace of either elf, but they do say no news is good news?” Amandur shrugged sympathetically.

“Then we should make haste, there is a rivulet ahead, perhaps it will reveal some clue?” Lespheria urged.

“We can but hope,” Vanwe sighed and then all three silently set off in the direction Léspheria indicated the rivulet ran.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Menecin

Looking up Menecin's mind reeled, his pulse quickening, shocked by sudden appearance of this proud and willowy elf who had pervaded his thoughts for so many years, her fragile and perfect beauty unchanged by the passage of time. The large silvery eyes, which sparkled in the morning light as she smiled looking down on him, bore no trace recognition of the cares that had lain so heavy on him. She seemed untouched by the horror that had issued from her, unbent under the weight of her crimes against him. "Menecin," she purred. "At last I have found you…."

As he stood up he let his gaze fall, feeling a twinge of longing that chilled him as he traced the fullness of her cheek and gentle curve neck, resting on the rhythmic flicker of light and shadow that shown there, betraying her tenuous life. So close. She had chosen her phrase well, echoing the words he had spoken to her in Ithilien, and filling him immediately with the impulse to protect her…. " Naiore," he whispered, his deep voice barely audible. For now in the new day she seemed deceptively pure once more, only her armor hinting at the darkness it protected.

He reached out to caress her cheek gently, to feel the soft warmth of her skin, allowing himself the pleasure of her feigned affection for the last time, but he stopped short. Her attempt to kill him had been all too real, and the scars too deep to be forgotten. It was no nightmare that had driven him to this precipice, but the hopelessness of an insurmountable grief that gripped him. What malignancy coursed though under that exquisite exterior to feed her cursed ambition? How had they reached this moment? He wondered. And how was he possibly to find the strength to do what was necessary? Steeling himself he looked deeply into her eyes - those eyes that seemed to carry for him the glory of Elbereth's efforts - searching for an answer. Then he, remembering the weapon he carried and his intent, despaired anew. For if he, who loved her even now, could not find it in himself to set her aright, what hope was left them? And what future could there be for his daughter, other than to follow in her mother's ways? Retreating into himself once more, he struggled with his predilection, smothering the rebellion that consumed his heart. He had one thing only to ask of her before raising a hand against her.

"Where is Vanwe?" he demanded, his voice grown suddenly hard.

"Vanwe!" echoed Naiore, the false smile on her face fading into a look of maternal concern. "Surely the child is with you. Did she not come to you?" Naiore moved a step closer toward him.

Menecin’s mind swam. It was the first time he had ever heard her speak of Vanwe to him, the child of his devotion, and his eyes narrowed as he stepped back a pace. "Why did you not tell me before of our daughter?"

"How could I tell you?" she asked, her voice still soft and soothing. "By the time I learned that I carried your child, we had long parted ways. For all I knew, you were dead. Had I known that you lived, I still could not have gotten a message through. Not from where I was." She paused, the serene smile returning to her lips. "It simply could not be done. But, you see, I have sent our daughter to you now, that she might know her father before it is too late."

He smiled wryly. "And learn what I have become? Something that I am sure you know well, for you are the architect of this prison, also laying its very foundation."

"None but the architect of a prison would know better the way out."

"I am beyond your reach," he said as she advanced once more, closing his eyes against the assault of his senses, her familiar scent plunging him into the past once more. "I can no longer grasp you, for my love is naught but illusion."

"Love is always an illusion, dear Menecin," murmured Naiore, reaching out a slender hand to touch his face. She let her fingers trail gently down his cheek to his shoulder, his arm. "That is where we have always parted ways, but touch me now. You were once the lover of my body, siring a child. See me now. I am very real." She closed her hand around his right arm, just above the elbow, pulling him into her embrace. His eyes flicked open at her tightening grip in time to see the icy coldness that had risen in her eyes and turned all of her soft words to lies. Breaking away, he took a few steps back, stumbling across the rill. Quickly brandishing the orc's sword he realized that Naiore's hand held a naked dagger, but found himself unable to attack.

Naiore took a step in pursuit of him, but stopped short, her clear gray eyes looking past him into the forest beyond, the faint murmur of approaching voices suddenly audible in the dawn silence. "She comes!" hissed Naiore. "And she brings others." She let her gaze return to Menecin, her eyes meeting his at last with undisguised contempt. "Come, my lover," she purred, turning her dagger so that the finely honed blade shimmered in the soft morning light. "Let me release you from your prison..."

Menecin froze, unable to strike at her, yet not willing to let her dispatch him either, for Vanwe's sake. Suddenly, he heard the soft rustle of leaves someway off and again the muted echo of voices. Naiore hesitated, her eyes narrowing. Menecin turned partway to discover who it was that approached, but could discern neither his daughter nor anyone else. Fearing some trick, he wheeled round to face Naiore again, only to find her gone. She had melted away into the undergrowth once more.

Staring unseeing at the scarred hands that had failed him, Menecin let drop his sword, falling to his knees to cradle his head in his hands.

[Ealasaide]

Benia

For the second night in a row, Benia decided to forego the lovely bed in the room that the elves had prepared for her in the guest wing of the Last Homely House in favor of a cot in Dúlrain’s room in the Hall of Healing. She slept lightly, her slumber regulated by the deep, even sound of his breathing. This night, unlike the night before, she managed to sleep without waking almost to dawn, when suddenly she was awakened by the sound of him crying out sharply in his sleep. Fearing a relapse, she rose and went to his side, only to discover that he had been dreaming. His color remained good and, at a touch of her hand, the dream seemed to subside, returning him to a peaceful quiet. Smiling gently, she kissed his forehead and turned to go back to her cot when she realized that the water pitcher on the table beside his bed was empty. Picking it up, she went to find Celebnariel or one of the elven healers to get the pitcher refilled.

Carrying the pitcher loosely in one hand, Benia walked into the corridor. Through the high, arched windows facing the east, she could see the first hints of light beginning to paint the sky. It looked to be a fine day dawning.

"Good morning, Miss Nightshade," said a deep voice behind her. She turned quickly and was surprised to find that Kaldir had appeared behind her in the otherwise empty corridor. He nodded toward Dúlrain’s door. "How is he?"

"Good." She smiled. She was surprised to find Kaldir stirring about so early, but then, she remembered, he had never slept much during the time she had spent traveling with him. He had always been up before dawn. She looked back in the direction of Dúlrain‘s room. "Actually, he is remarkably well. I would never have believed such a speedy recovery possible had I not seen it with my own eyes."

"That is a relief to hear," answered Kaldir with a smile of his own. "He was in rather desperate straits when I last saw him. I came by several times yesterday to look in on him, but each time found him either sleeping or otherwise indisposed -"

"Yes," Benia cut him off, a slight flush rising in her cheeks. "I’m sorry to have occupied him so, but I am glad to see you now. I had been hoping to speak to you about... how I behaved at the river. It was reprehensible."

"Reprehensible?" echoed Kaldir, an amused smile widening on the good side of his face. "How so?"

"Why, I fairly accused you of trying to kill him when all you were trying to do was save us all. It really was inexcusable. It’s just that I was so frightened... "

"Think no more of it, fair lady," said Kaldir, a soft light coming into his pale eyes. "I have not given it a second thought."

"It is very kind of you to say so," answered Benia. She looked down in surprise as Kaldir suddenly reached out and closed one of her hands in his, drawing her after him into a small room that the healers used to treat patients with minor injuries. "What - " she started to ask, but stopped herself as Kaldir closed the door behind them. He still had not let go of her hand. She looked at him curiously.

"I, too, had hoped to catch you alone for a moment," he explained, taking the pitcher from her other hand and setting it to the side. "I wished to speak with you about something of great importance.

"To me," he added, taking up her other hand. Benia waited as he turned her hands over between his to look at the tattoos on her palms. Not quite sure what he was up to, she watched as his finger traced down one of the fine lines of pigment. Whatever it was that he wanted to speak to her about, she thought, he certainly seemed to be taking his time to work into it, which was rather unlike him. Usually, he was so curt.

"Your tribe has an odd custom," he commented at last, "this business of tattooing their women. It marks you for easy capture and death. Why do you do it?"

Benia shrugged, still wondering where he was heading with this. "Tradition," she answered honestly. "Pride. My mother's hands were tattooed before mine. Her mother's before hers, and so on for hundreds of years, as long as our people have been in existence. We are who we are."

"I nearly killed you in order to take these hands as trophies,” Kaldir rejoined bluntly. “For which I would have been very well paid.” He gave her a sideways look. “Do you know what stopped me?"

"No." Benia shook her head. "Though I have often wondered."

"Loyalty."

At a questioning look from her, he continued, "Your loyalty to Mrs. Banks. That night in the Forsaken Inn, you made a conscious choice to allow me to carry you off to near certain death rather than to cry out and endanger your friend. Very few people would make that same choice."

Benia withdrew her hands from his and moved a few paces away. "Gilly is my dearest friend in the world. I would sooner die than see any harm come to her."

"As would I now, too, rather than see any harm come to either of you," Kaldir said quietly. "But I must ask - how do you feel about me?"

"About you?" asked Benia, her amber eyes studying his scarred face. "I-I don't know. When I first met you, you terrified me. I knew that you meant me harm and I thought more than once of how I might destroy you in order to save myself. But now..." she trailed off thoughtfully. "Now I can see that you are a man of honor, in your own way. A man of courage. And of loyalty, if one can be so lucky as to earn it from you. Dúlrain thinks very highly of you."

"Dúlrain," repeated Kaldir darkly. "Has he yet spoken for your hand?"

Startled, Benia hesitated. "No," she answered finally, barely loudly enough for Kaldir to hear her. "He has expressed some affection for me but... but he has not spoken of marriage."

"Then let me speak of it."

"You?" she exclaimed, her dark eyebrows knit in confusion. The idea that Kaldir might feel some attachment to her had never occurred to Benia. She had been so caught up in worry and fear and concern for herself and Gilly, and, more recently Dúlrain, that she had been blind to what had apparently been obvious to everyone else. Thinking back, she remembered certain comments that Gilly had made and, suddenly, Dúlrain's incoherent ramblings made sense to her, he loves her, never be mine! Disbelieving, she shook her head. She should have seen it, she thought, remembering, too, the time that Kaldir had handed her the strand of wild morning glories as he walked beside her horse the day before they had entered the Lonelands. She should have seen it.

"Yes, me," responded Kaldir, leaning back against the closed door. "Is it such a horrible thought?"

Benia blushed hotly. "No, no, not at all!" she stammered. "It's just that you surprise me. I had no idea that you cared for me. Even a little bit."

"I care for you a great deal," he answered. He pushed himself away from the door and came to stand in front of her, one hand gently grasping her elbow. The other hand touched the fine silver chain that ran across her cheekbone. "Before I met you, Benia, I knew only anger and hatred. While I thought that I was doing well for myself, I was actually drowning in it. I believed that the anger was all I had left and I nurtured it carefully. But then I met you." His rough hand cupped her cheek. "As I spent time with you, I began to believe that perhaps there was more left in the world for me than anger. I began to wish for more. Because of you, I began to wish to be a better man again."

Benia looked up at him as his pale blue eyes searched hers for some kind of response to his words. Sensing her hesitation, he continued. "With you beside me, I believe I am capable of it."

"What would you have me do at your side? Aid you in hunting down my kinsmen?"

"No." Kaldir laughed and shook his head. "I knew the bounty-hunting would trouble you. I have already spoken with Amandur about returning to the ranks of my former brethren, and leaving bounty hunting behind. He seemed amenable."

"You would do that for me?"

"I would." He looked deeply into her eyes. "And, having once practiced the trade of bounty hunter, who could better protect you from the pursuit of others who would kill you for a price? I offer you not only my love, but my protection, as well."

"And if I turn down your kind offer?"

He shrugged. "Then I see Mrs. Banks back to her home in The Shire and I will trouble you no more."

"Will you still give up bounty hunting?"

He gave his head an enigmatic tilt, then shrugged again. "Perhaps. Perhaps not." His blue eyes narrowed slightly, giving her a piercing gaze. "I suppose it depends on how things go with me when you are gone." He stepped away from her, turning his back. Benia stared at his broad shoulders.

"I don't know how much you know about me, or how much Dúlrain or others may have told you," he continued after a long pause, speaking with his back still turned to her. "I spent several years as a prisoner of Mordor during the war. Horrible things were done to me that I would not begin to describe for you. You see the scars on my face and my body, but there are other scars that you can't see, that may never heal completely. When I am with you, the pain of those scars goes away. I feel a kind of peace and calm that has been unknown to me for a very long time.

"You give me hope for the future."

Uncertain of what to say or do, Benia crossed her arms in front of herself, hugging her elbows, but still said nothing.

"I need you, Benia," he finished at last and turned to face her again. "Will you become my wife?"

Benia opened her mouth to answer, but closed it again, still speechless. So many questions whirled through her mind, not the least of which involved Dúlrain. She loved Dúlrain with all of her heart, it was true, but it was also true that Dúlrain had as yet made no offers or promises for the future. But there had been so little time. And Dúlrain knew of Kaldir's feelings for her. Would he really take it upon himself to step aside for his friend, who so obviously needed her with him? She remembered Dúlrain's words on the stairs... never be mine. Was it just delirium? Confused, Benia shook her head and reached out for the pitcher that Kaldir had taken from her and left on a side table.

"I don't know," she whispered.

Kaldir moved toward her again. "Then, you will think about it?"

"I will," answered Benia. Gravely, she looked up into his face and saw the trace of hope in his eyes. She knew then that he had meant every word that he had spoken, that he would be the best husband to her that he knew how to be. That he loved her. But what about Dúlrain? Kaldir needed her, she argued against herself. But she loved Dúlrain. Did Dúlrain really want her? And if she chose Dúlrain, what would become of Kaldir? Would he fall away again into the life that he now talked so readily of casting aside in pursuit of a better existence? The questions made her head spin. Finally, hugging the empty pitcher to her breast, she turned to go.

"I will think about your offer," she repeated awkwardly. She gave Kaldir a last troubled smile and, turning, fled the room.

[Nerindel]

Vanwe

Vanwe could only but watch as Léspheria and Amandur methodically search the way for signs of her father’s passage, she felt useless in the presence of such skilled woods folk. Her mother and father where out there somewhere, each struck by an illness that she was powerless to cure or prevent. Her hand strayed to the knife in her belt each time a twig snapped or the leaves rustled, she glanced uneasily in every direction half expecting her mother to suddenly appear before her and the nightmare to begin anew.

“Here, look!” Amandur called, pointing to a fresh print in the damp earth of the bank. “He can’t be far ahead,” the ranger assured her as she and Léspheria came forwards for a closer look.

“He is alone, that is a good sign!” Léspheria smiled comfortingly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Vanwe nodded, but still her hand remained wrapped around the hilt of her knife and her vigilant gaze continued to watch the trees nervously as they moved on.

“There ahead!” Amandur whispered, “I thought I saw something moving upon the rill!”

Vanwe did not hear both Amandur calling for her to wait, she had seen the movement too, it was her father she knew it! She ran headlong unheeding of the possible dangers towards him. Breaking through the trees, she found him on his knees cradling his head in his hands, a rusted sword lying inches from his feet.

“Father, are you alright?” She implored kneeling beside him, then checking him over for any sign of injury when he did not reply. Lowering his hands she looked deeply into the crystal blueness of his sapphire eyes, she could see his anguish and her own eyes now filled with a mixture of relief and genuine concern, “What were you thinking coming out here alone, what if she had found you?” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she contemplated what might have happened. “Please, I could not bear to loss you too!” she whispered lowering her gaze to the ground.

****************************************

Léspheria

“There ahead!” Amandur whispered, “I thought I saw something moving on the rill!”

A sudden flash of anger, hatred and intense loathing hit Léspheria’s senses, “No wait!” she called throwing her hands out to stop the young elf, but it was to late Vanwe was running as fast as she could towards the rill and out of the safety of the woods. Both she and Amandur instinctively ran after her their weapons drawn. Finding the young elf bent over the hunkering form of her father she and Amandur took up defensive positions either side of the two elves allowing Vanwe to tend her father in safety. Léspheria’s grey eyes swept the undergrowth, her mind reeling, whose torrent of emotions had she sensed? She cast a sidelong glance towards the bard, his emotions where turbulent at all times and it was possible that the emotions she had sensed were but another erratic outburst from the tormented bard, but… she paused turning her gaze back toward the heavy brush. But, she sensed nothing; if Naiore had been there, she had left post haste.

“All clear,” Amandur announced coming up beside her, but she did not hear him, still staring at the morning shadows of the thick brush.

“What is it?” Amandur whispered his head inches from hers as he followed her gaze.

His words gently waking her from her doubtful contemplation, she turned to look at him, studying his thoughtful gaze. “No, nothing” she sighed shaking her head, I thought I sensed something, but it was just him,” she whispered nodding in the direction of the bard.

Amandur turned again towards the direction of the brush not entirely convinced, “do you think we should move our plans ahead?” he whispered still scanning the area ahead.

“Perhaps it would be wise!” she replied her attention now fixed on the two elves kneeling on the damp ground. “On our return I shall advise the others to make ready to leave.” Amandur whispered following her gaze towards the bard and his daughter, "You still intend to allow them to come?" he questioned.

Léspheria nodded, "Yes, they need an end if they are to find any semblance of normality, they need closure Amandur, we all do!" she sighed wearily looking into his eyes and then turning back to the two elves they waited silently.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Gilly

Running through the list she held in her mind, Gilly sat on the edge of the chair feeling quite contented with her sense of accomplishment. Everything seemed to be working out well. Her dress was fixed, except for the tatting that she had half finished, and which would likely be ready to set in place by the end of the day. Novfuinien had found someone to carry her letter, and she had also received word that Dúlrain was much improved, though Benia still watched over him. Quite genuinely pleased to hear this, Gilly had debated going there herself, but having seen that Benia had a soft corner in her heart for the man, she had chosen not to disturbed them, hoping to grant them some rare sheltered time together now that the crises had past. For as she commented at length to Novfuinien, it was about time her friend found a bit of happiness in life!

Only one piece of unfinished business remained, Dúlrain’s companion sword. Gilly eyed it dully glinting by the door, as if it were winking to remind her of the past few tumultuous weeks. She had dutifully cleaned it as well as she knew how, and it had polished up nicely indeed, but Kaldir had said that he would show her how to put the finishing touches to it, so she could hand it back to Dúlrain in as good a shape as when she had received it. And this she dearly wanted to do now that he had awakened and she found herself ready to make her way back home whenever it suited Kaldir. It had been so good of Dúlrain to part with it in the first place, and as she reflected, it had come very much in handy.

“Ack, there is nothing for it, is there?” she said to herself, sliding down off the chair to pick up the weapon. “Seems the student must track down the master, if she’s ever to learn such things!” But as she went to open the door’s latch, a light but rapid knock was heard on the other side. With blade in hand Gilly opened the door wide to find Benia standing on the threshold, looking not at all like the picture of joy that the hobbit imagined. She showed not even the slightest inkling of it.

“What has happened?” Benia asked stepping into the room and quietly closing the door behind her. “Has some one been troubling you? Why do you answer the door armed?”

“Oh no, Miss Benia, quite the opposite. Actually, I’ve been treated a ways better than I could have wished, and have even managed to made friends with an elf. Imagine that, would you!” But Benia seemed restless, and her glance did not stay long on her friend, but nodding, she crossed over to the window, and then back again. “Here,” Gilly said pulling the chair away from the wall. “Why don’t you sit yourself down? You are making me nervous with all your walking to a fro.”

“No thank you, I could not possibly sit just now. But still, you have not told me why you hold a sword in your hand.”

Gilly chuckled, grinning broadly. “It is only a coincidence. I was just going to set about finding Mr. Kaldir to help me sharpen this before I return it to Mr. Dúlrain. He had promised to show me what to do, but I haven’t seen him since we got here, and my friend Novfuinien tells me he’s about this morning. So I was just off to find him. The man is like a regular ghost coming and going all unseen!

“But tell me about yourself. I thought that I would find my old friend with a smile brightening her face now that Mr. Dúlrain is out of danger, and instead it is right cloudy weather. He is alright, isn’t he?”

“Yes, yes he is,” Benia said with a wistful smile. To her friend’s surprise she suddenly stopped pacing and settled down in the chair. “Gilly,” she said after a moment. “I have no mother now…”

“I know that Miss Benia, but your mother was a marvelous woman!” Gilly declared, for the hobbit had always thought very highly of her.

“And I have never had a sister.”

“No, I don’t reckon I ever heard of your having a sister,” the hobbit shook her head, wondering where all this was leading.

“But I do have a very good friend, and that is you.”

“Benia, what is troubling you so? You seem a restless as a cat in the fish market. Can it be so hard to tell such an old friend?”

“Gilly I would ask you to be more than a friend for a moment, but mother and sister also, leaving your own feelings aside, for I know you have become a friend also to Kaldir. I have a weighty decision make, one that has taken me by surprise, for he has just now asked for my hand.”

“Ah, small wonder then that you are so serious today! But it is an easy choice. How can you give your hand without your heart also? I have seen how strongly you care for Mr. Dúlrain, so in accepting this offer you would be injuring Mr. Kaldir as well as yourself.”

“If it could only be that simple,” Benia breathed, and Gilly listened as the story unfolded of her meeting Kaldir in the halls of healing, and of her own doubts. And the hobbit grew sad listening, for there seemed no clear answer anymore, and she grieved over her friend’s dilemma. For each choice seemed bitter, and it was no longer a question of her friend’s happiness, but only of what would accomplish something good. And in that, the scale tipped in favor of Kaldir. For to choose Dúlrain seemed to mean to loosing him, or to tempt him to turn his back on Kaldir, which in a way would also be to loosing him. And to deny Kaldir would be like cutting down a tree that was slowly returning to life after a fire.

“I confess, I am at a loss,” Gilly said in the end. “But I think that you shouldn’t hurry yourself to answer Kaldir. No doubt he made a good case, though I daresay he was late getting out the gate. But I don’t feel at all good about you taking up with him permanently, not yet. Not as good as I would about Mr. Dúlrain. And I think your mother would have agreed with me…father too, for that matter. It is easy to overlook a scarred face, but if those hidden scars he mentioned disfigure his heart, oh that would be a hard road for you, and one I don’t care to see you travel. Best to find out before deciding just how sound his is, as it’ll only come to the forefront over the years. But then again, I don’t suppose he’d be keen on waiting, for if you will excuse me for saying it, he is sure to know a little of your feelings for his friend. ”

“Well, I think we both already know what sort of things he has been capable of,” she said looking briefly at her hands and then rising again to return to the window. “But his words were honest. And I see that he is trying to find his way out, and that I can help him. But I can’t bring myself to a decision, and I feel I can’t breathe, thinking of it.”

“Oh just wait until I see him again, he will get an earful from me! What was he thinking of, letting you get so attached to Mr. Dúlrain and then springing this on you? Cruel it was!”

“No please, I will handle this Gilly. I don’t think he sees the position he has put me in.”

“Sees or not sees, someone should open his eyes for him! He’s no way blind is he? And he has sense enough to know what it is he’s done. My guess is that he already knows!”

“Well, if anyone is to open his eyes it should be me,” Benia said walking over to the hobbit and resting a hand on her shoulder. “But I need to think all this over. I need quiet and room to walk, fresh air after being indoors for so long!”

“There is a nice garden close by, maybe you could do your thinking there. But do let me know what you decide. I will be worrying over it until you do.”

“I will,” said Benia promised. “For I think in either case, I will need a friend.” And with that she left, and Gilly was alone.

Forgetting the sword and picking up her tatting instead, Gilly headed out the door also. She was quite upset, and needed to cool down, and with that thought in mind she headed toward the Great Hall.


****************

Menecin

Downwardly spiraling thoughts assailed the elf as he fell to questioning again each moment of his long life. Had then all that he had done been only self-serving, and all that he loved false? Surely not all love was illusion, for he felt his own love had been truly given. He had cared deeply for Naiore. That would never change, though he now felt confused, and as if his searching for her had always been based in his own need of her, or rather, what she had once represented to him. And that had now become a howling emptiness inside. Something that had never really existed.

“Father, are you alright?” a voice said beside him. And he felt the light touch of a hand on his back as Vanwe knelt down, heedless of the sodden earth beneath her knees. Raising his eyes, he saw concern and relief etched in her expression. “What were you thinking, coming out here alone?” she chided, the tears rising to her eyes. “What if she had found you? Please, I could not bear to loose you too!” Lowering her head she wept, the tears rolling down her cheeks.

And those tears moved her father’s heart. Surely they were not born of deceit or pretense, but of the natural upwelling of emotion. No not all love was an illusion. Naiore was not right in this. Lifting her chin to wipe the tears from her face, Menecin looked again into her eyes. “See, you have found me at last, and would not loose me, and neither I you. For when you did not return to me, I went in search of you.” And then rising to his feet he helped her up also, now that he noticed Léspheria and a ranger stood watching the brush. “But you are right, it is not safe here and we should return.”

“But why have I found you so disconsolate?” She asked earnestly. “Do you not know that there are many who would help you if you would only ask?”

“I thought that I had lost you Vanwe, that your mother had coaxed you from safety.” He looked around at the brush surrounding them. “I thought that I too was lost, but I know now that none of this is true.”

Vanwe looked up at him, puzzled.

“Come let us leave this place,” Menecin said starting off toward Amandur unsteadily. Picking up the rusted sword, Vanwe ran to his side to lend him support, and he leaned heavily on her shoulder, smiling down at her. “I apologize, daughter, for I fear that I have not taken as much care as I ought, and now have become a burden to your slight shoulders!”

Vanwe returned his smile and walked silently by his side, to where Léspheria and Amandur were waiting for them.

[Nerindel]

Amandur

On their return, to the last house Amandur took his leave of the others and made his way towards the ranger’s quarters. Briskly he strode down the long corridors turning right towards the room in which Rauthain had been housed. Standing before the door of his brethren Amandur knocked urgently and then entered the ranger’s quarters, as expected the older ranger was already up and dress.

“Amandur,” Rauthain greeted him with a slight incline of his head.

“Rauthain my friend there is to be a change of plans we will be leaving sooner than expected!” he quickly informed him. “Find Avanill and Kaldir and have them prepare to leave as soon as possible!” he finished turning sharply to leave.

“Off course, but if I may ask, to what do we owe this sudden change of plans?” Rauthain quickly asked.

Amandur paused at the door pondering his answer and then turned “a feeling,” he replied simply, gaining a questioning look from his old friend.

“We found Lord Menecin upon the rill that borders Rivendell’s woods this morning. Lady Léspheria thought she sensed something or someone, off course it could easily just have been the bard she sensed, but I am inclined to believe that the emotions she sensed and the presence of the bard were more than mere coincidence!” he explained moving towards the open window.

“You believe Naiore is still here?” Rauthain asked in astonishment, though it did make some sense to him that the elf would linger yet awhile.

“Yes, but not for long, after this mornings activities she will soon be on the move again.” Amandur replied solemnly, staring out over the deceptively peaceful valley. Rauthain nodded his understanding as Amandur strode purposefully back towards the door.

“And what of Dulrain?” Rauthain asked, “I daresay he will be reluctant to be left behind.”

“I go now to speak with our young companion and to learn of his condition from the healers, we will meet at the stables when everyone is ready!” Amandur answered thoughtfully. The two men nodded to each other and then Amandur left to seek out the young ranger and his healers.

****************************************

Dulrain and Amandur

Dúlrain awoke to the morning of the third day to find that he was alone; he sat up blinking against the bright morning light filtering through the room. Looking around he noticed that the jug and pitcher that normally sat on the dresser was missing, he smiled realising that his love must have gone to fill it. Contented and feeling much stronger he rose from his bed, wishing to surprise Benia by being dressed and walking about before her return. A dull ache remained in his side as he pulled on a fresh shirt and pants, but it was nothing that gave him too much trouble. Pleased with himself he walked up to the large windows and opened them out, letting the cool breeze of the summer morning chase away the stagnant air of his curative prison.

As he stood looking out over the valley he thought on the past several days, his feelings for Benia had grown so much that for the short periods they were apart he found himself eagerly anticipating her return, as he did now! A reminiscent smile spread over his face it had been long since he had known such happiness and in the presence of such a fair and wondrous woman, he wanted no more than to keep her happy and safe. She had strength and spirit that he admired and like him, he knew she would never be contented to stay in one place for too long. Giving into his fantasies, he pictured what their life would be like together, several hours passed, until a brisk knock at the door shook him from his reverie.

“Come!” he called gaily, turning from the window to see who had come to visit.

“Well I must say you at least sound better!” Amandur laughed as he entered the room.

“Indeed I am my friend, it is good to see you though I had thought to see you before now!” he laughed in return.

“Aye and you would have if the healers had allowed it and you where not otherwise engaged,” Amandur grinned jovially.

“Aye I have been pleasantly pre…” he began his voice trailing off as his eyes swept across the items Amandur held in his hand. Cold reality swept aside the fantasy of the past two days and he now thought how foolish he had been to think that he and Benia could ever have all that he had dreamed for them. His internal struggle of love and loyalty instantly returned, to have Benia would mean to loss Kaldir, but to deny his heart would mean losing them both for he would certainly have to let them both go, their happiness would bring him pain, a pain he was not sure he could bare.

“The healers tell me that you are well enough to leave their care, I managed to procure these from them though reluctant they were to relinquish them,” Amandur grinned holding out the belt from which hung the two swords that Dúlrain usually carried at his side.

It was with a heavy heart that Dúlrain took the weapons, carefully strapping them to his waist, “Does this mean I will be permitted to continue on with you when you leave?” he asked as he tucked the extra length of leather behind the buckle of his belt. “Indeed,” Amandur nodded, “It may be that we will be in need of your services!”

“And Kaldir?” he asked looking up from his belt.

“He will be joining us,” Amandur answered his grin melting away and his brow furrowing with concern. “He has spoken with me about giving up his old ways and returning to the ways of our brethren.”

With a heavy sigh Dulrain turn again to the open window guessing the reason for his brother’s change of heart. That he was thinking of the future meant that he had not given up on life; he knew that he should be happy that his brother was finding his way, but the pain of losing Benia was unbearable. Closing his eyes against what he knew he must do, he asked Amandur when they would be leaving.

“As soon as everyone is ready,” Amandur told him, slightly confused by the young ranger’s reaction.

“I must first speak with Miss Nightshade, and then I will join you,” Dúlrain said turning again to face his captain, his head held high but his eyes betraying his sorrow.

“You need not do this!” Amandur sighed reading his young friends intent, “You could let the lady decide?”

“No I could not place so heavy a burden upon her,” he sighed.

“Yet you would cause her sorrow by not returning!” Amandur demanded.

“She would soon forget me and Kaldir will make a good husband and she a good wife, they can find peace and happiness together, don’t you see this is what I want for both of them.” Dulrain went on, turning again to look out over the valley.

“Even at the expense of your own happiness?” Amandur pressed, “Do you not then love her?”

“Off course I do!” he snapped angrily, rounding on his captain. “So much that it physically hurts, but who am I to deny my brother this chance of happiness! Benia has some feeling for him I have seen it, she can cure him of his hurts and he is the better to protect her from the evils of this world. She was not meant for me, it was only happy circumstance and chance that we met at all.” He finished dejectedly.

“I will speak no more of the matter, my mind is made up!” he said firmly as he turned too searched for his things.

“Then I will expect to see you at the stables once you are ready,” Amandur sighed turning to leave.

As soon as his captain was gone Dúlrain fell to his knees his head in his hands, his whole world was crumbling before him and he could see no way out! After what seemed like an eternity he rose, steeling himself against what he must do.

Finally finding his pack he made preparations to leave, packing only the essentials and gaining rations from the kitchens of the elves, once satisfied that he had all that was needed he reluctantly threw the pack over his shoulder and went in search of Benia, still unsure of exactly what he was going to say to her!

[Ealasaide]

Benia

After leaving Gilly in her room, Benia walked swiftly in the direction of the gardens, feeling as though she could scarcely breathe. She needed time to think. More than once she raised a hand and rubbed her temple where a throbbing pain had begun to set in. While she felt deeply fortunate to have such a wise and caring friend as Gilly, Benia found that Gilly had raised more new questions than she had offered answers. She found herself wondering now if Kaldir really did understand the kind of pressure he had placed upon her. After all, she knew from hard experience that he was a man accustomed to working his will by force, if by no other means. He was a smart man. Was the guilt he had placed at her feet - should she refuse him - merely another weapon he wielded when it suited him, like the sword at his side, in order to gain a certain end? She had seen him in action. He was a master at manipulation and deceit. Could he really have changed so much?

Gilly had been right in that it was easy to overlook a scarred face. The hidden scars were the ones that she should beware. Like jagged rocks under the placid surface of a lake, a disfigured heart would only be revealed with time. Had Kaldir's heart merely been wounded by his experiences in Mordor? Or had it been disfigured in some ugly and dangerous way? Gilly had been right to urge caution. On the other hand, Gilly had not seen Kaldir's eyes when he had spoken to Benia of his need for her and his hopes for the future. They were not the same eyes that she had looked into that afternoon in Bree when he had forced her to hold a knife to his throat and ordered her to kill him, yet the situation seemed remarkably similar: she could either save him or run him through; the choice was hers. Or was it? Both then and now, while she held the knife, he still seemed strangely in control, bending her to his will by the sheer strength of his personality.

Instinctively, Benia reached up and touched the carved wooden whistle that she still wore on the leather thong around her neck. Dúlrain. A sad smile touched her lips as she thought of the too brief hours of happiness she had shared with him the day before. Surely that happiness was not already a thing of the past. With her other hand, she wiped a tear from the corner of one of her amber eyes. If it were merely a choice of the heart, then there would be no contest at all. Her heart would always and completely belong to Dúlrain. All she had to do was picture his face in her mind, his clear gray eyes, his gentle smile, and her heart would flutter in her chest like a butterfly. A song would rise to her lips. But now, with the thought of losing him forever staring her starkly in the face, she found herself unable to breathe. The dull throb that had begun in her temple shifted to the pit of her stomach, where it continued to trouble her with a persistent ache.

"Dúlrain," she whispered, closing the carved whistle in her fist. "Please..." she added softly, unconsciously echoing the single word she had spoken to him when she had lifted her veil in those few fateful seconds on the dusty sidestreet in Bree. Feeling suddenly light-headed, she reached out for support and found herself steadied by the touch of a strong hand. Wishing for Dúlrain, she looked up only to find herself looking into the concerned eyes of an unfamiliar elf.

"Are you all right, miss?" he asked gently. "I was behind you on the path. It seemed you were about to fall."

"I-I'm fine... thank you," stammered Benia. "Thank you." Carefully, she disengaged herself from his grasp.

"You're very pale," he persisted, giving her a stern, though caring, gaze. "Are you sure I can't at least help you to a bench?" He gestured toward a stone bench that stood in a bower only a few paces distant from where the two of them stood on the garden path.

"Thank you," Benia repeated softly. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then gave him a weak but determined smile. "But no. I'm fine, really." She took a step back.

Finally seeing some color come back into her cheeks, he nodded agreeably and set off again past her down the path. "Be careful," he called over his shoulder to her as he disappeared around a bend. "If you start to feel dizzy again, be sure to sit down."

Benia nodded at his back. "I will," she murmured, but sitting down was the last thing in the world she wanted to do. She needed to walk, to think. She needed space. Turning, she happened to glance up and see the crowns of the tall oaks and pines that lay in the forest beyond the garden walls. That was what she needed, the solitude of the forest, not a busy garden where elves sang incessantly and zipped up and down the paths like so many brightly colored hummingbirds. She needed to be alone. Without thinking of what dangers might still lurk in the forest so soon after a battle, Benia went to the gate and slipped outside. Within moments, she was concealed within the shadows of the trees.