a.n: second haldir imagine in a row but who can blame me lmao i’m still working on my bagginshield fic and soon i hope to have the next chapter out, but requests are still open x
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“I don’t like this at all,” Gimli said, reiterating for the umpteenth time his discontent. “It’s just not natural.”
“Not natural?” Legolas questioned with a small smile, clearly much more comfortable than he had been in the mines. “You cannot get any more natural than this, dwarf.”
Grumbling something under his breath, Gimli continued on, coming to your side and delivering a small nudge at your hip.
“You agree with me don’t you, lassie?” he asked, seeking camaraderie.
You just wished for their tirade to end, so you agreed, “I suppose. There’s something about this forest that just put me on edge.” This seemed to please him immensely, and beneath his great beard, he continued to trapse through the lands with a smirk.
It had heen the truth, though the mines of Moria had been no less of a strange place. There were forces in the forest that you couldn’t quite explain, and whether their wants be sinister, you knew not. Keeping a hand ever close at your sword, you cast your eyes in all directions, trying desperately to comfort yourself with your trust in Legolas; the elf had a great ability to see what the rest of the fellowship could not. You trusted him wholeheartedly, never once had he failed you since your first meeting many months ago.
“Aye, see elf, not all of us are in favour of your suicide mission.”
“It will only be a suicide mission if you keep talking,” Legolas cautioned.
Gimli continued to mutter in a tongue you did not understand before turning to Frodo. You heard little of their conversation, too concerned not only for your own safety, but for the protection of your friends. Your responsibility had been weighing heavy upon your mind as of late, though you knew that you were likely not alone in your worries.
“Well,” you heard Gimli continue, “Here’s one dwarf she won’t ensnare so easily! I have the eyes of the hawk and the ears of a fox!”
Just as you were about to make another remark on the subject, Aragorn came to a halt before you, the rest of the fellowship following suit. Immediately you drew your sword, holding it in front of you before even seeing the cause of the stop. Your breath was heavy, though you knew silence was needed; a whole host of creatures could be lurking in that forest, most of the creatures in this part of the world unfamiliar to you. You had heard many tales of what lay in the darkness, and knew many of which you would not be able to defend yourself against.
Fearing the worst, you were rather relieved to find yourself surrounded only by elves, tall and dressed in long grey robes, bows taught between pale fingers. At either side of your head sat an arrow point, restricting you to only a fraction of movement, and you felt as though a hundred eyes were upon you.
“The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark,” a voice mumbled, coming to stand before Gimli. The elf seemed rather unamused, and whilst you saw no immediate danger, you still held your sword tight, knowing better than to let your guard down so easily.
To Lothlorien the party led you, a city that you never could have dreamt up, both the people and scenery no less than awe inspiring. You were introduced to the Lady Galadriel that Gimli had spoke of, who you found both fantastic and terrifying, and from there were allowed to finally rest. It had been days since you had felt true safety, and even though only a few hours you had spent in Lorien, you knew that you would sleep easily tonight.
As the night was beginning to cloud over, you had decided to take a walk about the lands, as the air was crisp and you knew better than to pass up the opportunity to see such sights as these. In all of your travels, you had never imagined you would encounter such a place. It seemed to you as though this were Valinor itself.
You were passing by a flowing waterfall when you felt a presence striding toward you, and instinctively your hand once again came to the hilt of your weapon.
“I shouldn’t think that is necessary,” the voice from earlier chuckled, standing now beside you.
“Are you sure?” you mumbled, though removing your hand.
The elf gave only a small smile, and a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Might I ask where you’re from?”
Keeping your eyes trained on the flowing water, you moved to fold your arms over your chest, delighting in the cool breeze tickling your hair. “You haven’t even asked me my name yet.”
“My apologies,” he said, “my name is Haldir, and I would very much like to know yours.”
Instead of answering as he had wished, you merely smirked a little, and with a sigh continued on your walk about the land. Haldir was rather taken aback, though couldn’t help but follow you, his curiosity very much heightened in a way he hadn’t known before.
“My Lady,” he called, coming to catch up with you.
“You needn’t call me that: I’m hardly a Lady.”
“Well you haven’t given me anything in its place.”
You simply hummed, turning your eyes to observe the twittering birds, the gentle swaying of the leaves against the wind beneath the moonlight. It was truly amazing, yet your thoughts wouldn’t stray from your new companion.
“I had never given much thought to the race of men,” Haldir began, to which you spun on your heel, brow raised.
“Oh,” you chuckled, “I hadn’t expected you to think at all of men.”
Haldir caught your meaning, and you delighted in the slight blush that came to his features, and for the first time since you had met him, he seemed to lose his air of distinction.
“That’s not-” Haldir cut himself short, and you held your silence, wanting to see how he would recover. “That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean then?”
“I meant,” he said, now resuming his air, striding toward you, “that never before had a human interested me in such a way. You’re quite the exception.”
“Oh, well I’m ever so sorry that we bore you, I shall have to get in touch with the rest of my race and tell them that.”
Rendered speechless once again, you decided that you had toyed with him enough, and with a sigh you confessed, “(Y/N). That’s what you can call me, so long as you promise to never say ‘My Lady’ again.”
“May I call you vanima?”
Haldir asked, expecting you to be oblivious. He had decided to take his own back, thinking it a rather witty decision on his part, yet the glint that came to your eye made him doubt himself. The humour had drained from your face, and now it was your turn to flush, rather surprised at how forward the elf had been.
“Wait-” He stopped, realising the magnitude of his actions, and though he perhaps wouldn’t have called it regret, Haldir certainly felt a degree of embarrassment.
“I’m sure that you have met my good friend Aragorn,” you explained, “Often I had heard him speak in a language I did not understand, so I asked him to teach me. It was also good to have an elf as a travelling companion, I became rather good at it.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
You looked to him now, and the regret in his eyes made your heart heavy, knowing that his intentions had been nought but good.
“Did you not mean it?” you asked, stepping before him now so that there was scarce a gap between the pair of you.
Standing near a good head above you, you noted the gentle features of his face, the way his eyes had a certain dampness that was neither sorrow nor joy, how his white hair framed his face so effortlessly. He was certainly a sight to behold after what had seemed like an interminable journey, and you could hardly believe that someone like him could look at you in all your mess and rags.
“No, I meant it,” Haldir whispered. You smiled, and he knew he had made the correct decision.
a.n: so it’s been a hot minute since i wrote on here but i’d very much like to be active again. so reminder that my ask box is always open. also feel free to leave any suggestions (i was thinking about writing something non x reader so i’d love to hear your thoughts x) anyway enjoy this self indulgent shit x
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Absence certainly had made the heart grow fonder, and as you sat situated at the end of your bed, needlework only half occupying you, your thoughts could only stay upon your husband.
Haldir had been away for more than a fortnight now, longer than you could ever remember being separated from him. For days, you had piled yourself high with work, just so as to keep your mind off him; yet your efforts had been futile, and you had hardly managed a wink of sleep since last your arms had been around him. Of course you knew what his job entailed, and you had always promised him that his many posts did not bother you, though that was clearly a lie. His absence was one that could not be ignored, nor filled with menial tasks - as hard as you tried.
And now, three days after his scheduled return, your head was filled to the brim with thoughts, running around like mischievous children, uncontrollable. However your embroidery turned out had ceased to be a concern of yours for many hours now, only acting as a way to keep your hands busy. The harsh chill of winter was licking at your window, and the frost resting there upon shielded you from the outside world, locking you in an almost cell of sorts, as though a prisoner.
Overcome with great thirst, you finally forced yourself to abandon the craft, and with uneasy strides you made your way out into the hall to collect yourself a goblet of water. All around you people chatted, and in such a way it angered you that they were not hurting as you were, that seemingly you were alone in your pain. Holding your tongue you sipped at your drink, pausing over the jug to collect yourself.
Just as you were about to turn back toward your room, a familiar glimpse caught your attention, a flicker, not even a full sight. At first you put it down to your imagination. After all, your lack of sleep surely could have done you no good, and you would have been false to say that you had been properly looking after yourself.
It was nothing.
But then it advanced. It was coming toward you, initially cautious, then slowly gaining in speed. You turned finally, and lo and behold Haldir stood at the end of the hall, bow swung over his shoulder, hair lazily framing his smiling face. It seemed almost as though a dream; in all of your anguish, you had scarcely entertained the possibility of his return.
And now there he was.
“(Y/N),” he breathed out, arms open to you. You couldn’t believe it, that there you were running now to him, and there he embraced you with such love, you were all at once overwhelmed with emotion.
“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you whispered against his chest, nuzzling into the soft leather of his garment.
Shaking his head a little, Haldir held your back tightly, brushing his chin against the top of your head. “I would never leave you. Nothing in this world would prevent me from returning to you, my love.”
You tilted your head upward a little to survey his face, delighting in those subtleties therein, betraying his upmost passion. Within those damp, blue eyes a thousand words were spoken in silence, and though many others collected around you, it seemed as though you were the only two in all of Middle-Earth.
“What happened?” you asked, reaching up to trace his features.
Haldir paused, and you could almost see the cogs of his mind turning. “I-”
“No,” you breathed, “You don’t have to.” Stretching up ever so slightly, you made to press a soft kiss against his lips, breathing in his form as though he had been away for a century. “You’re home: that’s all that matters.”
Haldir nodded in thanks, and followed your gesture toward your room, wanting to escape the publicity restricting your reunion.
“I hope that you haven’t been worrying yourself sick,” he said, shutting the door after him.
You shook your head, though the look he gave you suggested that he saw through your veil. You wanted nothing less than to worry him, a fact he knew all too well.
“There’s been too much to do,” you chuckled. “Many repairs and chores; you wouldn’t believe how often children tear their clothes, and of course I’m the first in line.”
“Well,” your husband said with a smile, removing a loose piece of hair from where it lay across your forehead, “you will be the best seamstress in the city.”
Rolling your eyes ever so slightly, you folded your arms across your chest. “That may be true, but last I checked I only had two hands. There are many around that can do just as good a job as I.”
“They all want the best.” Haldir stood above you now, free of bow and cape, yet still not yet free of his guise. “And that just happens to be you.”
“Well, I’m all yours now. Let me clean you up.”
“Clean me up?”
His question seemed innocent enough, but you could still note the remnants of a battle of some kind upon his skin. A few bruises littered about what lay exposed of his chest, the great mounds tension built up in his shoulders, and the harsh way his jaw sat clenched. He may have been home, but his mind was still upon those fields.
“You’ve been away for days. You should bathe,” you said, making your way to gather water for the bathtub.
Cocking an eyebrow, Haldir nevertheless consented, moving to remove first his tunic. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
You merely chuckled, gesturing toward the tub for him to get in. Once undressed, he slowly lowered himself down into the steaming water, and regardless of whether or not he would admit it, you picked up on the sigh of relief he exhaled upon entrance.
“Are you going to join me?” he called, turning his head slightly to watch you pottering about behind him. Seduction dripped from his voice, but truly you could only find his words comical with how exhausted he seemed to be.
“No,” you mumbled.
“There’s plenty of room,” but his eyes were becoming heavy, though you knew he would not fall asleep. His desire to be with you fought relentlessly against his fatigue, and even so he reached out to take your wrist, pulling you by his side.
“You’re too tired,” you smiled, kneeling beside him.
He only hummed in response, refusing to admit that you were right.
“Just relax. We’ve plenty of time later.” This idea seemed to please him, for when your hands ran over his exposed shoulders, he only sank into your touch, relinquishing his tension there beneath you. Amidst the boiling water he lay completely bare to you, in a way that only you could ever know; holding up such a guard on duty was something he had grew accustomed to over the years, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy giving it all up to you.
From his shoulders you massaged gently at his neck, eliciting a small groan of pleasure from the elf, even more so when your hands wandered into his hair. One of his biggest weaknesses was you toying with it, a fact that you had been humoured to discover at first. Yet now you primarily used it for his pleasure, once his initial embarrassment had subsided. Of course the pleasure was not one sided, for Haldir’s hair was of the softest texture you could recall, and exploring it was like tracing silk.
“(Y/N).” His hands came now to grip the sides of the tub, a great sense of elation overwhelming his form; how you could create such a feeling he had yet to understand, but truly he couldn’t care less so long as you didn’t stop.
“Just relax,” you coaxed, leaning to press your lips agains the tender tip of his ear.
That was a command he very much obliged, releasing another deep groan that all but echoed about the water.
He would certainly think twice the next time his return to you was delayed.
**You can find this story on Ao3 under the same username and title**
Cosima climbs the extra feet up to Alexander’s talan with little coaxing. Slowly but surely, she’s getting better, growing more confident in herself and facing her new life in the trees despite her fear of heights. If it were anyone else, I would have likely taken a ‘tough love’ approach by now and made them climb down from a considerable height, but the same feeling that stopped me from being rough with Cosima during training prohibits me from taking anything other than a patient, encouraging approach to her fear of heights. I love her, therefore, I can do nothing to hurt or frighten her, even if it would help her in the long run. It’s quite a jarring change from my three thousand years of successfully leading ellyn in one way. But with her, I am content to take as much time as she needs. I do hope we’ll one day move into my talan, or find one together that we can make our own, but for as long as she needs, I am capable of being content in the guest talan near the ground.
Once Cosima steps over Alexander’s threshold, I turn and head for the building that houses the main strategy and war rooms. A noise registers over my right shoulder and I turn, expecting to see Orophin falling into place.
I take in a breath once I remember that Orophin is not here. He’s in Imladris, with his wife, and the ellon standing near my shoulder is actually Rumil. Rumil, who is heartbroken with the absence of one brother and the impending loss of the other, has dutifully and without being asked assumed the position his brother left vacant.
Pride and tenderness surge through me. No matter when I depart this world, as long as Rumil is in it, it will be in good hands.
I clear my throat and face forward, resuming my walking. Rumil keeps pace easily. As we pass, ellyn nod or smile in acknowledgment of our return, but I do notice a few eyeing us in wariness. It is to be expected. We left with four ellyn and returned with three and two seemingly impossible humans. I do my best to project calm assuredness, as that has worked in past times of uncertainty.
Rumil’s quiet voice reaches my ears. “The eastern patrol returned about an hour ago and reported seeing smoke similar to what we saw, though perhaps fifty miles closer to our borders than the last fire. The Lady is waiting for us in her war room.”
I don’t react beyond a nod of acknowledgment, but internally, my mind races. Fifty miles in the span of a handful of days? My company and I rode like hell to get here as soon as we did…how fast are Sauron’s forces moving?
The guards outside Lady Galadriel’s war room step aside to let us pass, having been expecting us. I part the gossamer curtains and step through, Rumil only a step behind.
Lady Galadriel looks at me from where she stands at the far head of the rectangular table, her ageless eyes tightened with worry.
“Marchwarden, Sauron’s forces move closer to our borders.”
“So I’ve heard.” Without hesitation, I stand at the other head of the table, Rumil following to take the position at my right, the one Orophin used to occupy. The others in the room — high ranking wardens and patrol leaders — fill the other spots around the table and stand near the walls.
I find the one I’m looking for. “Lossel,” I nod at her, recognizing her as the one leading the eastern patrol last night. “Full report.”
She clears her throat and steps forward. “I led my group of four past our eastern border stations and well into the plains, per the Marchwarden and the Lady’s request. An hour before sunrise, we saw smoke on the horizon, in the direction of the town the Marchwarden found decimated while on his return journey from Imladris. It was closer to us though, about fifty or sixty miles by our best estimates. We intended to ride forward and investigate but —” she hesitates, then steels herself. “But wargs descended on our company.”
Murmurs ripple through the room.
“Quiet,” I grumble. All sounds cease instantly. I nod to Lossel, indicating that she should continue.
She doesn’t miss a beat. “By my count, there were twelve, but it sounded like there were more in the distance. We weighed the risk of fighting through and decided it was not worth the chance of someone losing their life. We returned here as quickly as we could in order to report and, if necessary, seek reinforcements and ride back out.”
My face remains a stony mask of calm, but inside, worry gnaws at me. I’ve known Lossel for nearly two thousand years, I helped train her myself. I know she does not balk in the face of an enemy, nor a threat to her life. So for her to call for a retreat…
Rumil furrows his eyebrows, looking at me in uncertainty. “When was the last time that many wargs were found so close to civilization?”
“It has been many years,” Lady Galadriel intones, her voice sounding distant and contemplative. From the faraway look in her eyes, I know her mind has gone back, far back, to the first time Sauron presented a threat.
Out of respect, I wait to see if she has more to say before continuing. When she says nothing, I speak. “The wargs are not yet close enough to our borders that I am worried for the safety of our people. We could take a larger company and return to the scene to wipe them out, but I believe that action would be premature. We do not yet want to alert Sauron to the fact that we are on to him, for that would significantly diminish our time to prepare. I recommend that, until new information arises that requires reevaluation, we leave the wargs be. Traveling will be cautioned against, and those who insist on going will be required to have an armed escort. As for patrols, we continue, but we prioritize stealth over speed and increase our companies’ numbers from four to eight. Our main goal will be reconnaissance, and we will take alternate patrol routes if necessary. I will contact the leaders of Lord Elrond’s and King Thranduil’s armies and officially put forth the recommended plan of patrol coordination we agreed to yesterday evening.”
“Didwe agree to it, Marchwarden?”
I recognize the sneering voice instantly. I turn my head slowly to my left, locating the ellon leaning against the stone wall. Rustion.
“We took a vote,” Rumil reminds him, voice hard.
Rustion bares his teeth. “It was barely a majority.”
“Both our Lady and Marchwarden back it, because it’s the right move,” Rumil defends.
“The matter of the strategy for coordination was debated at length yesterday, Rustion,” I say pointedly. “For the sake of efficiency, we will keep today’s discussion on the topic of how to handle the presence of wargs closer than they’ve been in recent history. If you have any input —”
“Perhaps it’s tied to them.” Rustion shrugs casually as if he didn’t just interrupt me.
I feel myself start to glower as suspicion registers. “Tied to whom?”
“Those stray humans you brought back from the plains.” His voice drips with derision. “Marchwarden, tell me you’ve considered it. Two humans supposedly not of this world and conveniently lacking vital memories appear, secure a place in the company of one of the most prominent Elvish families, spend a summer residing in the personal home of one of the great Elvish leaders of this realm, and apparently intend to make a life in the realm of our great Lord and Lady, who just happen to be the most powerful beings of our time? I cannot ignore the connection between one strange occurrence and the next. There should never have been a second attack on a village and there should never have been the presence of so many wargs so close to our home. I said it then and I’ll say it now: waiting is the wrong move. We should have massed our forces and tracked down Sauron’s legion the first time. The longer we wait, the more time they have to grow in power. The Marchwarden is so enraptured by his humans that he has allowed himself to be blinded to the connection between them and the dangers at our door. Since one of them has so obviously inserted herself into the life of our Marchwarden, perhaps he can no longer remain impartial. Perhaps, just while we investigate the full extent of the humans’ roles in these strange and dangerous occurrences, the Marchwarden should step down.”
The room goes cold and deathly silent. I feel fifteen pairs of eyes watching me, watching how I’ll react.
I don’t let any of my anger show on my face. Not only is he questioning my ability to lead, but he is — quite unjustly — speaking against Cosima, and I have no intention of letting either of those offenses pass without answer. But here in front of the Lady and the other leaders of this realm is not the place for such a confrontation.
I blink once, making myself look bored. “Your concerns have been noted. However, there is no evidence that the humans have anything to do with Sauron’s forces. If anyone else lacks confidence in my ability to perform my job, share that with the Lady Galadriel, as she is the one with the power to remove and appoint Marchwardens. For now, I suggest that we stop wasting time and instead focus on the urgent matter at hand.”
Lady Galadriel inclines her head towards me in a show of solidarity. If she ever personally questioned my leadership and asked me to step down, I would do so immediately. But I know Rustion’s words have not swayed her, nor anyone in this room. He is known to have contempt for my family and anger at his lack of promotion in the guard — two factors that seriously weaken his allegations.
Lady Galadriel speaks, her voice easily filling and dominating the room despite its softness. “I lack no confidence in you, my Marchwarden. You may continue.”
As I pick up where I left off, Rustion’s head falls in deference to his Lady, but I can feel him seething from here. This is not our first confrontation, and it will not be our last.
It’s ellon like him that can make this life seem so very long.
{***}
The meeting ends how I predicted it would. We vote, my plan wins near-unanimously, and we are released to attend to our duties. Remembering my promise to Cosima, I hang back, intending to speak with my Lady. Before Rumil can head to his next post, I motion for him to wait.
“Go to the library and see what you can find on Sauron’s use of wargs in the last war, specifically, the timeline. When did he start using them, how did they change the course of the war, and so on. Report back with your findings.” I furrow my eyebrows, guilt creeping in. “I should have asked Elrond about this when we were in Imladris. He saw it all first-hand.”
Rumil hesitates, then raises his hand, as if to put it on my shoulder. But after a moment, he drops it back to his side, having changed his mind. “You didn’t know. You cannot blame yourself for that.” He pauses, and then nods in respect before stepping back. “I will look into this, brother.”
Brother. I try not become too hopeful at his use of the title. There is still a long road to healing the hurt I’m causing him, and I fear I haven’t the time left to do it properly.
The realization — not that I am to soon depart this world, but the realization that I may have to do it without the forgiveness of my brother — weighs on me. I turn my thoughts on Cosima, on how she smiled at me this morning upon waking, the Lórien sunrise lighting her hair, and know that, though my price is heavy, it is one I would willingly pay again and again.
I pray that one day my brothers can understand that.
Thoughts of Cosima make me eager to return to her with favorable news, so I turn to approach Lady Galadriel.
She smiles at me, looking as if she expected me to turn to her. “Rustion’s conclusions are wrong, but his heart is for his realm. We cannot fault him for doing what he believes is right to protect it.”
Ican fault disrespect, but I don’t share that thought with Lady Galadriel. The slight quirk to her lips tells me she knows my mind well enough.
“What do you wish to speak with me about, Haldir?”
I waste no time. I pull the letter Elrond sent ahead and press it into her hands. “Lord Elrond explains everything in this letter.” I give her a moment to skim it over, noting the nearly imperceptible raise of her eyebrows.
“I see,” she murmurs, pressing her lips together in thought. “Moving through worlds would be a traumatic process, it is entirely possible their memories have vanished in an effort to protect their minds from remembering all they no longer have. The damage to their fæs could be a side effect.”
“Can you heal them?” Millennia of practice still cannot hide the worry in my voice.
Her eyes soften. “I have a few ideas, but I make no promises. Bring them to me tomorrow evening so I can take stock of the situation for myself and see what can be done.”
I release a sigh of relief and bow low. “Thank you, my Lady.”
“There is something else,” she guesses.
I nod, straightening. “Alexander wishes to return home. It is something he wants more than anything, and I feel he will not handle having to stay in this world well. I wanted to ask if you could do anything to return him to his home world.”
Lady Galadriel quirks an eyebrow. “Alexander is alone in his desire to return to his home?”
I try not to let my shred of worry and doubt become noticeable. “At present, yes. Cosima has expressed her desire to stay here, with your permission, of course.”
She smiles. “I have no issue with allowing a human to craft a life here. Either of them may make their home as they see fit. I will look into avenues for returning the humans — one or both of them — to their home world. The magic in this world is in motion, changing. I should like to think that very few things are completely impossible in times such as this.”
Again, I bow deeply. “I thank you. I will bring Cosima and Alexander to your study tomorrow evening.”
“Marchwarden, one more thing.”
I wait expectantly.
“Would you like to be released from your position?”
For the first time in many, many years, I freeze. “I—what? No — No, my Lady. I apologize if anything I did gave that impression.”
Her expression remains indecipherable. “I do not doubt your dedication nor your aptitude. Still, I offer you this out. I would not think less of you if you wished to spend the remainder of your life in peace with your human.”
I force myself to take a deep breath, then swallow down my shock. I roll my shoulders, clasp my hands behind my back, and am once again in control of myself. “Our world is in a precarious position. If this comes to war, I will see it through to its end.”
“And after?”
I blink. “I will prepare for the next one.”
Amusement lights Lady Galadriel’s eyes. “There are many more peaceful ways to spend one’s life.”
I set my stance. “I did not choose a life of peace. I have chosen my realm, and my guard, and until the time comes when you wish to send me from my post, I will serve with all my being.”
She takes a step towards me, the amusement fading into something like pity. I’m not used to being looked at in pity, and I want to turn away from it, but I cannot show that weakness. I force myself to look her in the eye.
“‘All your being’ is no longer all your own. Haldir, I say this as your friend of many millennia, not your Lady. You have been alone for so many years, and the life you crafted served you well during that time. But now your circumstances are changing. I would not fault you for changing your choice.”
When it becomes clear that I will not respond — whether from shock, anger, indignation, or fear, I’m not yet sure — her expression softens and morphs into the serene and watchful calm she is known for. “Dismissed. Get those letters to the other generals as soon as possible.”
Stiffly and feeling a little nauseous, I bow and exit the war room.
{***}
I write the letters swiftly and send them with the birds that carry our correspondence. After, meetings occupy most of my day. In the evening, I craft updated patrol routes and groupings, taking care to make sure each group is comprised of individuals who can cover each other’s weaknesses. By the time I resurface from my work, the sun is gone and I have been at my desk too long. Cursing inwardly, I race home to collect enough items so I can spend the next few days at Cosima’s, then head back towards the ground to her talan.
The door is locked this time.
I knock and smile upon hearing her hurried footsteps approaching the door. The lock turns and she swings the door back to let me in.
“Hello,” I greet, pulling her in for a kiss before I’ve fully crossed the threshold.
“Hi.” She smiles up at me and then tugs on my hand, pulling me farther into her talan.
“Sorry I’m so late,” I apologize, knowing it is well past the dinner time I had promised. “My work got the best of me.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she shrugs easily and passes me two plates to take to the table. She follows a second later with drinks and sits across from me.
I raise an eyebrow, noting her plate. “You waited for me?”
“Of course I did,” she answers, like the idea of doing anything else would be silly. “I had a late lunch anyway. I spent the afternoon at Mirime’s. Did you know she has six dogs?”
I grin. “Those are only the house pets. Her family has a number of hounds they use for hunting. The ones that live with her are those that are too small, sick, or old to do their jobs effectively.” I pause, something occurring to me. “Mirime lives in one of the mid-level talans. You said you visited her there?”
“Yep!” Cosima beams. “She’s very patient.”
I scoff, pretending to be affronted. “I am very patient.”
She laughs heartily, and I can’t help but join her. “Sure you are, my love.”
I lean around the table and pull her lips to mine. She sighs into the kiss and rests her hand on my shoulder, playing with the braid that hangs there.
The action reminds me of something I’ve been wanting to ask her for some time. With Rumil in a better place, I feel like I can finally bring this up. And with Rustion’s line of questioning this morning and the wary looks I got today, I want there to be no question of her place in this realm and the trust I have in her.
I pull back and take both of her hands in mine, resting them against my knees. “May I court you?”
She raises her eyebrows and sends a bemused look at the bags I dropped by her front door. “You’ve practically moved in, is that not what we’re doing already?”
I grin somewhat bashfully. If my parents knew how out of order I’ve done everything, they’d be horrified. “Yes, technically, but I do want to make it official.”
Her smile softens and she leans in to press her forehead against mine. “Then yes, you may.”
I kiss her at length, forgetting all about the food on the table. When we are both breathless and smiling wildly, I stand, turning towards my bags.
“Wait here.”
I return to the table a moment later carrying a comb and a few near-invisible hair ties. Cosima watches my movements carefully but doesn’t object when I come up behind her and begin gently separating strands of her waves.
“As you know, our braids all mean something,” I explain as I begin twisting and intertwining her hair. “The one I’m doing now is a courting braid. It will communicate with others that we are together with the intention to marry.”
She leans her head back so she can see my face. “Do you have a courting braid for me?”
I smile and continue my work. “I will. I’ll show you how to put one in my hair after I finish with yours.”
Contented, she leans back in her seat and lets me continue the intricate braid. As is the custom, I keep it on the right side of her head. Once we are married, I’ll switch it to her left so it can hang over her heart.
Lady Galadriel’s words come back to me. There are many more peaceful ways to spend one’s life. For a second, I allow myself to imagine it. I leave the guard. Given Cosima’s — and now my — shorter lifespan, few would object. I would recommend my second to take over as Marchwarden and give Rumil more responsibilites. He’s ready, he would do well with more. With the guard in good hands, Cosima and I would have more time for each other. We could spend our days hiking in Lothlórien’s extensive forests, swimming in its crystalline lakes, reading and cooking and laying in bed all day. If the roads were safe enough, we could travel back to Imladris, possibly even taking Rumil with us, should he request leave from work. I could see Orophin again, and Cosima could see Lavandil. We could stay with them for a time, explore Imladris’s waterfalls and libraries. We could return to the place I first told her I loved her and spend as much time there as we liked. And then we could come back to Caras Galadon, or perhaps even somewhere deeper in the forest. Maybe one day, with enough time and research and effort, we could truly figure out what happened to place her in my world and allow us to meet. And maybe I would get the chance to thank whatever entities made it so.
Cosima’s fingers find my wrist and she leans back to stare up at me once more. “You okay?”
I blink, reverie breaking. “Yes. Sorry, I was thinking.”
She’s silent for a moment while I continue to braid. But then — “What were you thinking about?”
I take my time before I answer, trying to phrase it just right. “Would you ever want me to step down as Marchwarden and leave the guard?”
I feel her stiffen, then she turns to face me as best as she can with my hands still in her hair. “What brought this on?”
“Something Lady Galadriel said to me earlier today. I’ve just — I’ve never considered…” I pause and try to find my words. “I would like to hear your thoughts on this.”
She purses her lips and stares at me for a moment before answering. “I don’t like that your job is so dangerous, especially with how the world’s looking right now. It does worry me and I don’t know how well I’ll handle being stuck at home if you’re away in the thick of it all. But that being said, the guard is a part of you. It’s something you’ve given so much of your life to and I know how important it is to you. I would never want you to quit on my account. Plus, you are good at your job. This world is safer with you having a leadership role in it. If you want to step down, of course I’ll support you. But please only step down if it’s something you want to do. I can’t make that choice for you.”
She tugs on my wrist and I tie off the braid before crouching next to her so we’re at eye level. She grabs my chin and pulls me in closer. “I love you, I trust you, and I want you to do what’s important to you.”
I lean my forehead against hers and inhale deeply, relieved. I don’t want to leave the guard. If she wanted me to, I would, but since the choice is up to me…
Yes, there may be a thousand more peaceful ways to spend my life. But I’ve never been the type to seek a peaceful life. Pursue it for my people, yes, but I myself like my life with a little adventure, with some passion. The fire that’s been in Cosima’s eyes from the moment I first met her tells me she is of a similar mindset. Yes, we could retreat to a home in the forest, but at least in this stage of our lives, I have a feeling we both would quickly become bored. There’s still too much to do, too much to experience. And my role in protecting this realm helps keep it safe enough to do those things.
I press a kiss to her forehead and then stand again, squeezing her hand as I go. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” she smiles up at me and then, realizing I’m done with her hair, brings a hand up to feel the intricate braid.
Wasting no time, she gets out of her seat and hurries to the bathroom so she can look in the mirror. I follow closely behind her, wanting to see her reaction. She gasps in delight and trails her fingers over the braid, tracing it from start to finish, then tries to follow individual strands of hair. Her wide smile softens and she turns to me, pulling me into a hug.
“It’s perfect.”
After a moment, I show her how to put the braid in my hair. She’s unused to the technique, so it takes a while, but in about an hour we have a matching set. We stand like that for a while, arms around one another, admiring the visual representations of our commitment. Yes, my life is stranger with her in it, and full of choices that I never thought I would have to make, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
A/n Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make me smile :) As always, please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list!
