Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2007-08-08 15:39:00 |
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The company of thirty-three – thirty Rangers, the two sons of Elrond, and Melpomaen – made haste southward through Eregion, riding from dawn to dusk and even beyond. Speed, rather than secrecy, was necessary, and Melpomaen found their pace grueling. If he had ever thought that riding would be less tiring than walking on his own two feet, he was swiftly disillusioned, though he decided that the rapid journey was worth it. Before they reached the Sirannon he bade the others farewell and turned his mount's head to the east, pressing on as fast as he dared. He did not neglect his own safety – if he came to grief, this journey would have been to no purpose – but he gave himself no ease. It took him two days to cross the pass of Caradhras, where there had evidently been avalanches over the winter, but with patience and care he brought himself and the horse through without incident.
When at last the northern border of Lothlórien was in sight, he was dismayed. The trees were scorched and withered as with fire, their golden leaves gone, their silver trunks blackened. Melpomaen walked his horse slowly forward into the woods. I have come back none too soon, I think.
He had gone only a short distance when a figure stepped out in front of him, arrow nocked and pointing at his heart.
Melpomaen reined in and swung off to the ground. "It is I, Melpomaen of Lórien," he said, spreading his arms wide.
Slowly the other Elf lowered his weapon. "Melpomaen? Is it really you?"
Now Melpomaen recognized him as a member of one of the companies that defended the borders, though not the one to which he and Haldir belonged. "Yes, Talagand, I have come home. What has happened here?"
"Orcs," spat Talagand. "And worse things, from the bowels of Dol Guldur. Not a fortnight ago. We beat them off, but our scouts say they are massing to attack again, soon. You are lucky that I didn't shoot you, but Orcs do not ride horses, so I risked waiting. We have had great losses, Melpomaen. Your company in particular – Captain Lórindol was badly wounded, and almost a score more; seven died."
"Who died?" Melpomaen had to force the words out.
Talagand named the dead. Haldir was not among them.
Relief flooded Melpomaen. Not Haldir. Not my beloved. In all his thinking about Haldir, and himself, and their bond, he had never considered seriously what it might mean to lose his partner to an Orc-scimitar. "And your company? How did they fare?"
"Less ill than yours, but four of ours were killed, and eleven wounded. Everyone in Lothlórien, men and women both, who has any experience in battle is being called upon to prepare for the next attack. Every company is being reinforced," Talagand said. "You'll want to return to your own, I'm sure."
"Yes. Where is their patrol now?" Melpomaen looked at his horse. "Although I must take care of him first. Does Caras Galadhon stand?"
"Oh, yes," Talagand assured him. "The attackers never got near the city. The eastward path to it is clear, so far as I know, and that would be swiftest."
"Thank you." Melpomaen remounted. "Good luck to you."
"To you, too," called Talagand as Melpomaen rode off.
It took another half-day to reach Caras Galadhon, and then Melpomaen had to make arrangements for his horse. Although the Elves of Lórien rarely used horses, there were a few stables for the benefit of the occasional traders. As soon as he had seen to its care he sought out information on where he could find his company. They had been assigned to the eastern border, he learned. Nearest to Dol Guldur. No wonder that we had such casualties. Before leaving the city, however, he decided he should see his siblings. His parents had gone to the West many years before, at about the time he had first gone into the border guard. His brother and sister were much older than he, and he had never been close to them, but now he felt obliged to make a fraternal visit. Who knows what will happen? They deserve a greeting, at least, before I seek out my company – and Haldir.
By good fortune Melpomaen's brother Baran was at his talan, though it was midday, and welcomed him warmly. "I had heard that you had gone to Imladris," he said.
"I did," said Melpomaen, "and have only just returned. I expect to be going back to Lórindol's company – whoever is leading it now – tomorrow, but I wanted to see you and Istil before that."
"I will take you to see her," Baran said. "She will be pleased, I know; we were both concerned about you, little brother."
Melpomaen was touched by the affection that they both displayed towards him that afternoon, asking how he had found Imladris, telling him of the doings of their spouses and children. He rather dreaded that they might ask him when he might find a spouse of his own, but that did not happen. When all thoughts were turned to war on the borders of the Golden Wood, and the chance of death seemed near, there was no time for less urgent matters.
He slept at Istil's talan that night, but in the morning insisted on departing as soon as he could. "Talagand told me that another attack is expected soon," he said, "and I want to be where I can fight."
He walked through the forest with a light heart. War was coming, but he cared little for that. He would be able to fight at Haldir's side. While there is breath in my body, I will defend him, and he me, and both of us fight for our people and these woods.
A familiar voice hailed him.
"Orophin," he greeted Haldir's brother. "How fares it?"
"Badly. But I'm sure you knew that," said Orophin. He had a smile on his face, though, and was clearly pleased to see Melpomaen back again. "You've heard about Lórindol, I suppose, from someone?"
"Yes, Talagand told me. What happened?"
"Three Orcs at once, and Dornir, who was closest, fighting off two himself and unable to aid Lórindol. His sword-arm was broken, but it was the wound in his gut that was worst." Orophin shuddered. "Lady Galadriel's maidens are tending him, and they say he'll live, but it will be a long time in healing."
"So who is leading the company now?" asked Melpomaen.
"Dornir. And Haldir is second in command, though he would have liked to refuse, I know. He's lost heart. Maybe having you back will help; you two were always the best partnership around. Come on, I will take you to the camp. Dornir will be glad to add another name to the roster."
He had not been expected, so Melpomaen was assigned to help with camp chores for the remainder of the afternoon. No cooking was needed when lembas and water were the mainstays of the company diet, but there were latrine trenches to dig and yesterday's to fill, and other equally necessary if less unpleasant tasks such as collecting firewood.
It was not until night had fallen that Melpomaen saw Haldir, who had been making the rounds of the patrolling pairs all day. His lover was standing near one of the small fires, warming his hands and listening to one of the scouts' reports. Haldir's hair gleamed golden as always in the firelight, but his face was drawn and wan. As soon as Haldir was alone for a moment, Melpomaen went to him.
"Dír," he said.
Haldir turned. "Maen." His hand reached out to grip Melpomaen's shoulder, and he let out a long, shuddering breath. "Orophin told me you had returned."
"I am not going to leave you again," Melpomaen said. "If that is all right." He realized, with half-astonished joy, that Haldir's touch did not sear through him as it had once done; instead it was warm and comforting.
"More than all right," said Haldir. "I've already asked Dornir to put me back on patrol, with you as my partner, and he agreed. He knows I'll be of more use there; I never wanted this post, Rúmil will be better at it."
Melpomaen could feel the smile spread over his face. This is where I belong. It does not matter what we do, as long as we are together. He remembered the first time they had acknowledged their love for each other, on the journey back from Dale, how they had kissed and touched in desire. He knew that Haldir would have no such desire now, and accepted that. Soon he would feel the same, but this time he would not resent it. He had realized that his happiness rested in loving Haldir and being loved by him, whether that love could be expressed openly or no. Everything else had burned away in the moments when he waited for Talagand to tell him if Haldir lived or died.
Haldir smiled back at him, squeezing his hand briefly. "It's good to have you home." He glanced around; no one was listening, but he lowered his voice nonetheless. "Meldanya. Beloved. I tried to tell myself that I was glad you were at Imladris, and I hoped safer than here, but I missed you. While you were away, Legolas came through Lórien, with an odd assortment of companions; they left a month ago. He said that he had seen you in Imladris, but not to speak to. You must have been very busy, learning about horses?"
"I was," said Melpomaen. "But Legolas told you less than the truth; I asked him not to say that he had spoken to me, should he chance to meet you again on his journey."
"Why did you do such a thing?"
"Because I did not know, then, if I could ever bear to return," said Melpomaen. "I left here because I felt – confused hardly says it. Angry. Resentful. Desperate. Confounded as to where I stood with you, with myself. And the one person I could talk to about my troubles, who would understand, was the one person I did not dare tell them to – you. So I left. When I had the opportunity to stay in Imladris, I jumped at it, because I could not face returning to that despair."
"Despair?" said Haldir. "Maen, you should have said something."
Melpomaen shook his head. "Do you not see, I could not, then? I," he drew in a deep breath, and at last admitted it, "I hated you, Haldir. I blamed you for my own turmoil. I think just then I might have looked away if you were attacked."
Haldir looked horror-struck. "But you would not now?"
"No, certainly not. But I had to think about what I had done, in loving you, and accept that I was responsible for my own feelings, with all their consequences." Melpomaen smiled wryly. "Legolas reminded me of that, indirectly, and I had decided that I would return someday when I had the opportunity to do so at once. So I took that as fate and came. When I thought that you might have been killed in that battle. . . I finally knew for certain. If you die, I will die; but that holds true for you as well, does it not?"
"It does, Maen. It always has," said Haldir quietly.
"I know that now. It just took me a long time to understand it," said Melpomaen. "I said so once before, meldanya, but this time I realize what I am saying. Where you go, I will follow, and where you die, I will die too, and meet you again in Aman."