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HUNTER'S MOON by Mirasaui
Chapter Seven: It seemed that Tilliel had taken up with Lindir once again, as Haldir caught glimpses of them that afternoon on his way to the practice field. After a communal bath where he joked half-heartedly with some of the warriors who had sparred together, or who had practiced target shooting with their bows, Haldir returned to the talan for the dinner that was Orophin's turn to cook. Orophin was much better at preparing a meal than Rúmil, but that was not saying much. Still, Haldir wolfed down his supper as if it were as tasty as the poached fish served often at Lord Celeborn's table. Immediately after he finished, he donned his cloak and picked up his bow and quiver. "Yes, again," He answered the question before his brothers could ask, "Night hunting, and I go alone." Rúmil and Orophin only nodded then hurriedly put on their cloaks as soon as he was gone. At different talans throughout the city, others grabbed grey cloaks and hurriedly threw them over shoulders, pulling up hoods to hide their hair and faces. These grey clad ghosts did not wish to miss the exit of two particular elves from Haldir's talan, and as Rúmil and Orophin silently tracked Haldir, others silently tracked the two brothers. The hunter's moon was full and bright, its face hovering close to the horizon and its beams shining with a silvery light on a couple as they kissed in a secret glade. Tilliel had assured Lindir that none would enter this faraway locale and they could leave off where they had been interrupted so many times before. She was especially lovely in a gown of green, and even Haldir, from his perch in a nearby tree, could see why Lindir was so smitten. Rúmil and Orophin, as usual unbeknownst to Haldir, climbed silently into a different tree and settled in to wait. Rúmil was ever ready to slip away quickly in order to rescue his brother from a night of heartbreak. But there was one slight problem. Orophin's funds had quickly run out, so this night, Rúmil would have to do some fast and sweet talking to entice another couple to this faraway place. But, he was quite prepared to do so, and Rúmil was well known for his silvery tongue. While Haldir watched Tilliel and Lindir, and Rúmil and Orophin watched Haldir, shadowy grey figures silently climbed into other trees around the glade. Three, including Claurech, settled in a golden Mallorn opposite the glade from Haldir, while two others found a perch in an oak to Orophin and Rúmil's right. The remaining four sat on various branches in a venerable old Mallorn, hidden from view by dark green foliage, on the glade's eastern side. If anyone were to wonder, they would be surprised to find that all warriors from a particular northern border unit now kept silent watch on a secluded glade at the edge of Caras Galadhon. Tilliel had teased and played with Lindir all that afternoon when they had met, and tonight, Lindir was determined to assuage the raging fires that were already coursing through his veins. Tonight, there should be no interruption and Lindir was resolute and bound to claim his prize. Tilliel's dress was lovely, but was not of the same diaphanous material as had been her raiment of the nights before. Instead, it was made of a thick and heavy, but sensuous fabric, one that did not show, but still accented her slight figure. But as lovely as the fabric felt, it was what was inside it that interested Lindir and he could not wait to remove the garment and see it lying on the ground. Haldir knew his luck would soon run out. The chance of Tilliel and Lindir being stopped from their pursuit of pleasure this time would be remote indeed. Haldir sighed. He should just go back home and drown his sorrow in a bottle, but Lindir would be leaving in a few short days, and if the only glimpse he could have of his love was in the arms of another, then he would have to be satisfied with that. But oh, how his heart ached at the thought. All watched as Lindir made his move and Tilliel responded. Lindir kissed lips as red as cherries, ran his fingers through strands of silver hair entwined with gold. His tongue sought to mark a throat of pearly white and the pink hued tops of swelling breasts. As his hands fumbled with the heavy laces of her thick and flowing gown, Lindir's was not the only breath that caught, as others waited in suspense to see the assets hidden underneath. Haldir's face looked stricken, Rúmil's and Orophin's were pale, but the faces of the others hidden in the treetops carried looks of mirth and glee and silent laughter. All except for one of the four on the eastern side, who looked on in astonishment at the maid in Lindir's arms. Rúmil was about to climb from his perch and try to rescue the situation, when his eyes caught a movement in a tree not far from his. He poked Orophin in the side and pointed with his finger at a figure in a grey cloak that looked vaguely familiar. Orophin's eyes widened in surprise and he looked around the glade and frowned. Then he placed a finger to his lips and held Rumil's arm. He pointed down at Tilliel and Lindir. "You may as well stay here, Rumil," he whispered, "you would be too late to stop it anyway, and there is nothing we can do either about this other state of affairs." On the ground, Tilliel's hands now were busy also, deftly undoing ties on Lindir's tunic, and her nimble fingers soon uncovered that which Haldir so desired. A muscled chest of finest porcelain was bared to Ithil's rays and it seemed the hunters' moon even smiled in appreciation. Haldir's heart went pitter patter, Tilliel's did too, and Lindir's beat like orc drums at the thought of what was to come. Finally, the many laces of Tilliel's dress were loosened and grasping the edges of the front of the garment, Lindir slowly slid it from her shoulders, down her chest unto her waist. The bright white linen of her chemise was the only fabric now between the warmth of her skin and the tips of Lindir's fingers and his questing tongue and lips. Twelve males of varying height and temperament, perched in leafy bowers, all leaned slightly forward to obtain a closer view. For Haldir, as much as he liked seeing a woman's lovely figure, Lindir was the only object upon which his eyes cared to feast. The others were not interested in such manly features, and kept their eyes on the pink ribbon that decorated Tilliel's chemise. Lindir pulled Tilliel to him and kissed her then placed butterfly kisses from her chin, down her throat, to the edge of the thin white fabric with the pale pink ribbon that just barely covered her now heaving breasts. Tilliel's head fell backward, her long hair trailing on the ground, and her eyes closed in her pleasure, while she moaned softly her desires. Telling the white haired minstrel what she wanted him to do and Lindir's breath quickened at her seductive, sensuous, softly spoken words. Her hands touched his shoulders, ran down across his chest, and settled at the waistband of his fine, green velvet leggings.
Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil by Mira Lindir audibly groaned, and his head moved up to kiss Tilliel's lips once more. It was then that he began to untie the ribbon of her undergarment, exposing to all eyes her cleavage but not yet, the hidden prize. Haldir at this moment held thoughts that were not pleasing for the silver-headed vixen that had captured Lindir in her spell. Again, the leaves on the branch whereupon he sat, trembled and quivered as his anger built within him. Eyes moved from Haldir back and forth to the hands of Lindir and the expression on the faces of the grey cloaked elves kept changing. First, would appear a leering grin, and then a smile of mirth until finally all hidden held their breath as Lindir's fingers moved again. Slowly, he slid one strap of the chemise off one pearly shoulder and then... In his eagerness to see more of what was happening, one of the four in the great tree scooted forward and leaned a bit too much upon his branch. Suddenly into the quiet of the night, which had before held only moans and whispers, there came a loud... thud... and Lindir watched in amazement as a large grey shape suddenly lay upon the ground, fallen from the boughs of one of the great Mellryn. Tilliel turned to see what had happened just in time to see a hood uncover shining silver hair, as a sheepish warrior rose from the prone position he had been in only a few short moments before. Quickly, Lindir tried to pull up Tilliel's heavy dress, to cover what no other should see except for him. His cheeks were red as apples to be caught in such a manner, and he could only think of poor Tilliel's distress in being so discovered. But quite to his surprise, Tilliel slapped away his hands, for she saw what Lindir had not yet, more grey cloaks up in the tree. Jumping to her feet more quickly than a fox, the she-elf stomped over to the old and stately Mallorn, and with her hands upon her hips, began to shout. "How dare you!" She yelled at the branches of the tree. "How dare you spy on me like that! She screamed out the names of two elves that Lindir did not know and then her eyes opened wide in astonishment and suddenly narrowed in almost unconstrained anger. "Lastad! (1) My own brother, hiding in a tree and watching me with my lover, I should have known you were behind all this!" In her anger at her sibling, Tilliel never noticed the other guardians that sat for a moment like stone in the surrounding trees. Nor did she notice as three, including Claurech, shortly afterward, quickly but quietly climbed down and snuck away, leaving those who had been discovered and Haldir and his brothers the only spies remaining in the glade. Tilliel kept ranting at her brother and his friends while Lindir grabbed the blanket and tried to wrap it around her shoulders. Breaking off from her tirade, Tilliel whirled around and faced Lindir. "I thought you were pretty and shy, with a voice like a nightingale, but you are not worth all this trouble! Here I have spent the last few days chasing after a silly elf that will just go back to Imladris. When all along, I was hoping Erynion (2) would ask me to the dance. And I found out today, he asked Erunesta (3)! All my attempts to make him jealous failed. You are of no use to me. Just...go away, Lindir. I do not wish to see you any more!" At this, Tilliel turned back to her brother and fumed and pouted until finally, her brother who did not think all that happened quite as funny as the others, grasped her arm and pulled her out of the clearing. They could hear him yelling at her and her at him for long moments after they had gone. The guardians in their cloaks, looked sheepishly at Lindir and muttering apologies under their breath, also began to leave. Lindir was left alone, or so he thought, his mind reeling with the hateful words that Tilliel had said. Shouted at him in front of elves he had never even met; elves that he would have to sing in front of at the suddenly looming dance. Hurt, shocked, and almost in tears, Lindir grabbed his tunic and ran out of the glade, deeper into the woods. Haldir had watched the scene play out before him with the same astonishment as the others, and so had Rúmil and Orophin. While the two in the tree behind Haldir had a good laugh over what had happened, glad for their brother's sake, they could only imagine the relief Haldir must be feeling now. Once glance at their elder brother showed this to be true, for his shoulders were shaking with laughter. Rúmil, who had struggled all throughout to keep a hand over his mouth, suddenly allowed a peal of laughter to slip out, and Haldir, still sitting in the tree in front of him, heard it. Rúmil and Orophin froze as Haldir slowly turned around, knowing they were about to receive not only a lecture, but also a tongue lashing. But when Haldir finally faced them, they were in for another shock, for tears were in Haldir's eyes and their tracks traced wet patterns down his cheeks. Their brother had not been shaking with laughter, but sobs, crying for the shame and hurt he had inadvertently brought on the gentle elf that he loved. It was not a chastising that Rúmil and Orophin received from Haldir, but a look of disbelief that such behaviour could have come from his brothers. For Haldir knew who was truly at the bottom of the spying. The elves that had hidden in the trees, all of them had been seen by Haldir, at least after the first one fell. And he knew them, for they served under him on the northern borders, they were all in his unit. He turned tear-filled eyes to his brothers and spoke only a few words. "I have hurt him badly, I must go after him." With that, Haldir jumped from the tree and hurried after Lindir. Rúmil and Orophin, not left with a chance to explain, climbed from their perch and walked mournfully back to their talan. Haldir ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He had to find Lindir, he had to tell him what this was really all about. Why had he hid from the elf to begin with? Oh, as much as he wanted to blame Rúmil and Orophin, all this mess was the fault of only one elf...himself. Haldir willed himself to run faster, using senses honed in his centuries as a guardian to try and determine where Lindir had gone. He had just managed to find Lindir's trail, when something or someone grasped him by the collar, turned him around, and then his world filled with pain as a large fist crashed into his face! ~~~~~~~~~~
1.
Lastad - name meaning to listen, one who listens. Lasta = to listen
(verb) [Ambar Eldaron le Monde des Elfes (World of Elves)] French translation
by Milly.
Haldir Chapter Eight: Through one swollen eye and another very teary one, Haldir could barely see the golden locks and angry countenance of the elf that held him suspended from the forest floor. His heart sank even further as he realized with no small amount of astonishment, just exactly who the tall and extremely powerful elf was. "Glorfindel?" Haldir groaned. What was the balrog slayer doing in Lothlórien? "You did not heed my warning, did you, Haldir?" Glorfindel spoke in a voice like thunder, his face only inches away from Haldir's. Haldir winced and wondered if his ear-drums were still intact. He wondered also which part of his anatomy the very angry elf would attack next! "I told you Lindir was off limits and you did not listen. Now he is hurt and you are to blame. Go near him again and I will personally flay the skin from your body!" Glorfindel released Haldir, who missed his footing, and landed with a painful jolt on his rear. "Y-you do not understand...it is not as it seems." Haldir tried to explain as he slowly rose to his feet. But the ancient warrior would not let him continue. "Oh, it never is for such as you, Haldir. If you cannot have Lindir, you will see to it that no one else can, is that it? And what better way than to humiliate him in front of all your warriors! Never mind Lindir's feelings or those of the poor elleth he was with, as long as your pride is intact!" "One day, Haldir, you will pay for all those broken hearts you so callously leave behind. One day, that cold muscle in your chest will warm with love for another and you will learn what it is to feel. And I hope that for just a second in time that love is spurned, so you can see what it is like to experience the pain that those like you cause others." "Stay away from Lindir; I will be watching!" And with that, before Haldir could utter another word, the golden elf was gone. Haldir sighed and touched a finger to his eye. It was swollen and painful and he had a dreadful headache. His last chance with Lindir had just gone up in smoke. There was nothing for him to do but go home. It was a weary and sorrowful elf who walked through the door of his talan only to discover Rúmil and Orophin nervously pacing the floor. They had been waiting for his return and looked at him first with guilt and then with shock. "Haldir, what happened? D-Did Lindir do that?" Rúmil asked in a soft voice. He could understand the minstrel being upset with his brother, but could not believe that Lindir had bested a marchwarden! "If I had the energy, which I do not, you two would be in worse shape," Haldir said icily. He looked at the rather pale faces before him and sighed. "I ran into a balrog, at least, that is what it felt like. In actuality, it was a balrog slayer, The Balrog Slayer...Glorfindel." "Why would Glorfindel wish to hit you?" Orophin asked, "And what is he doing in Lothlórien?" "It is a long story, and I do not know, to answer both questions," Haldir replied wearily. He took at seat on the sofa and held his aching head. "Give me a moment and I will start from the beginning." Orophin made a compress of hyssop leaves for Haldir to place on his eye and settled back onto the sofa to listen. Rúmil sat down next to him. Haldir began haltingly but soon had told all, starting with his infatuation with Lindir in Imladris, his avoidance of Lindir on the journey to Lothlórien, his jealousy that had led to Lindir's disgrace and finally to his fruitless search for Lindir and unexpected confrontation with Glorfindel. "I love Lindir." Haldir said, looking at his brothers. "I have been a fool. But all he has to do is look at me and I lose all sense and reason." "If it makes you feel any better, Haldir, Lindir is not aware that you were in the tree. He thinks it was all started by Tilliel's brother." Rúmil could not suppress a grin as he remembered the look on Tilliel's face, but one look at Haldir quickly wiped it away. "As much as I blame myself for this mess, there are others who are equally guilty. If Lastad was in that tree, someone put him up to it. Why? Did my embarrassment amuse you so much, brother? Was it worth it?" Haldir almost spat the words at Rúmil. Orophin laid a hand on Haldir's shoulder. "We admit it started that way. You always were able to have whomever you wanted, Haldir, even if we wanted them also. It is no secret that others desire you, follow you with their eyes. Your reputation as a lover is well-known, as is the fact that one will lose their heart if they fall for you, for you never return their love. It is always Haldir we hear about, never Rúmil or Orophin. Sometimes we cannot help be jealous. So when we saw that Lindir preferred Tilliel, we saw a way to pay you back, as a joke, we meant no harm." Haldir just shook his head. "I cannot help who I am; I never meant to hurt you." "As I said, that is how it started. But when we saw that you truly cared for Lindir and how miserable you were, we tried to help you. We paid those couples to interrupt Lindir and Tilliel. I know it was a terrible thing to do, Haldir, but we could not stand by and watch your heart break." Haldir groaned. "You have a strange way of showing that you care. What of the guardians? Were they also part of your plan?" Rúmil had the decency to look shame faced. "No, they were not. I am afraid I drank too much ale and mentioned our prank to Claurech." "Claurech!" Orophin turned to Rúmil. "When did *you* speak with Claurech? "When you were so busy collecting everyone's coin at the tavern, he came up to me and we talked. He bought me ale and we took a table. I like Claurech, what is wrong with that?" "Oh nothing, Rúmil," Haldir replied. "Did you ever wonder why I sent Claurech to the southern border?" "No, Haldir, why did you?" Rúmil asked, confused. "Did Claurech do something wrong?" "No, Rúmil," Haldir replied, "Orophin did. That is why I transferred Claurech." Haldir looked sternly at Orophin, at least as sternly as he could with one eye almost closed. "Orophin? Haldir, I do not understand what you are trying to tell me." Rúmil looked to Orophin, totally perplexed with the turn the conversation had taken. "Did you never wonder, Rúmil, why Orophin did not see the party from Mirkwood until they were halfway upon us? Or why he missed the signal arrow? Because he was too busy looking at Claurech to do his duty! That is why." "Orophin, you and Claurech are lovers? How did I miss that?" Rúmil was astounded at this news. "N-not exactly, Rúmil," Orophin replied, avoiding looking at his younger brother. "You have not told Claurech how you feel about him? Rúmil was even more surprised. "No, I have not, and if you say a word to him, you will regret it!" Orophin had turned slightly red and was glaring at Rúmil. Rúmil began to laugh and found he could not stop. Haldir was in love with Lindir and Orophin was in love with Claurech, oh, it was just too much. Both of his brothers were hunting unsuspecting prey. He finally managed to control himself and the wheels in his brain started turning. A funny look came over his face and he chuckled to himself. Luckily, Orophin knew that look. "Do not try to play matchmaker, Rúmil, do not dare to interfere. I do not want to end up like Haldir!" "Sound advice, Orophin, why do you not follow it yourself." Haldir said wryly. They all three began to laugh. The next afternoon, all of Lórien prepared for the festival of narbeleth. Men believed that on this night the veil to the otherworld was at its thinnest, and those who had died could return to visit with friends and family. Extra places were set at tables and fires were lit to guide spirits home. But the elves did not hold with such beliefs. Narbeleth for them was a time to remember and honour all who had come before, loved ones who had fallen in war or battle and entered Mandos' Halls or those who had felt the call of the sea and sailed west to the Undying Lands. It was not a time of sorrow. Old songs were sung, poems recited and stories told. And though the departed were not present in spirit form, they dwelled on this one night in the hearts of all. At midnight, a toast would be made to those honoured, and narbeleth (1) (the fading season) would end, to make way for rhîw (2) when nature lay dormant and the lands outside Lothlorien felt the cold of rhîw's breath. To celebrate the new season's start, the elves would dance under the light of Ithil, until Anor's light signalled the coming of dawn. Fruits of the recent harvest would be tasted, wine would flow and there would be much merriment and laughter. It was a festival that Haldir and his brothers always looked forward to and enjoyed, but this night Haldir wished he could stay home. Only those on duty or those who lay injured in the house of healing would dare to be absent, for it would be a sign of disrespect not to attend. While Orophin and Rúmil could not keep the excitement from their faces as they dressed, Haldir did so in silence. His brothers tried to cheer him as they walked with other elves to the clearing where the festival would take place, but Haldir's air of melancholy only seemed to grow worse as they approached. He knew that Lindir would be there and Glorfindel also, and that Lindir would be the topic of much gossip. The minstrel would be hurt and embarrassed at what he could not help but hear. Lindir would also have to face Tilliel and the guardians who had spied on them, and he ached for the hurt that Lindir would feel. For that, he blamed himself. If that were not enough, Haldir would also have to explain his black and swollen eye, for Lord Celeborn and his lady would wish to know what happened, that is, if Glorfindel had not already told. Others would be curious as well, and once the story was out, it would be another slap in Lindir's face. And then, there was the small fact that Haldir, at least before these last few days, had always been somewhat vain about his appearance and mindful of his reputation. Both had been tarnished last night. He sighed.
There was nothing he could do to repair the damage he had caused. If
he was lucky, Lindir would eventually forgive him and perhaps they could
be friends, at the worst, he would lose the one person that mattered
more to him than he ever thought possible. He squared his shoulders
and prepared for what was to come.
1. narbeleth
- the name for the season of late autumn, 54 days lying between modern
8 October and 30 November. [From the Elven Kingdom Website].
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