Mandos's Embrace Continuation

Chapter Fifteen

Glorfindel sat bolt upright. "Elbereth! What..?" His eyes fell on Azalea's writhing form, as she emitted another keening wail, eyes scrunched shut. Eyes shut! "Damn!" He grabbed hold of her and tried to still her, earning only another shriek. By the Valar! Half of Lorien must be awake by now!

"Wake her Glorfindel!" Círdan's voice at the bedroom doorway caught him off guard.

"How?" He used his body to pin her down and still her thrashing.

"Shake her, slap her. Just hurry." Círdan leaned heavily againt the frame for support. "She needs to wake!"

Glorfindel looked down at her helplessly. "I don't want to hurt her!" He gave her a gentle, yet firm shake. "Azalea!"

"Harder Glorfindel! You need to wake her!" Círdan groaned as she let out another shriek. Slowly he made his way over to the water basin and brought the pitcher to bear. "Incoming!"

Glorfindel jumped back. The icy water splashed over her and she sat up, a scream dying on her lips. "Oh Elbereth....I did, didn't I?" Troubled violet eyes searched out Círdan. "Was it bad?"

"Aye, Zale, it was very bad." He glanced at Glorfindel. "You didn't know, did you?"

"No. I...Azalea? Why didn't you tell me?" He reached out and placed a hand against her back, but quickly jerked it away in shock as she let out a low hiss. "Sweet Eru! Your scars are scorching hot!"

"I didn't want you to know. I don't want anyone to know. Please, just give me a moment." She reached out and gently caressed his face.

"Alright. I'll help your brother back to his hammock before he falls down." He gave her a kiss on her cheek and turned to get out of bed. Remembering he was naked, he slipped on a pair of leggings, before approaching the still swaying archer. "Come, mellon." He slipped an arm around Círdan's waist. "Lean on me for support."

Slowly they made their way across the talan and back out to the balcony. He eased Círdan gently back down into the hammock. "Ah, miunthel, you never change." The archer mused. Rolling his head to face Glorfindel, Círdan stared up at him."She doesn't mean any harm by not telling everything at once. She's been on her own for over a millennium. Depending on someone for support isn't really her way."

Glorfindel sighed. "So I've noticed."

"Does it change how you feel about her?"

His brows knitted together. Círdan was asking him a very important question, he knew. Was it love or lust? The archer didn't press him, just waited patiently. "No, I don't think it does...I still feel very strongly for her. At first it may have been lust which drew me to her, but now...I feel protective of her. I find myself wanting this relationship to last, to deepen into a bond." He smiled at the revelation. "I think I have fallen in love with her."

Círdan smiled broadly. "Now that is the answer I was hoping to hear."

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Azalea slipped out of bed and dried off with a towel. Now he knew. Her hands still shook and every movement sent pain ripping through her back. He had been right, her skin felt searingly hot. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, fingers ghosting over her mithril chain. Tears coursed down her cheeks and she brushed them away.

Her keen ears picked up the quiet voices coming from the balcony. They were too low for her to make out the words, but neither seemed greatly distressed. That was good. They would get along well after all. She had really hoped so. Silent steps carried her over to the wardrobe. She opened it and gently pulled out her archery gear. She needed time to clear her head, and some target practice would suit her well.

Dressing quickly, she pulled on her archer's glove and stole silently into the main room for her bow and quiver. Glorfindel and Círdan were still apparently deep in discussion so she managed to slip away unnoticed.

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A few elves were still about as she crossed the city to the archery field. It would be empty at this time of night, which was all the better with her. She sat down on the soft grass and spread her bow, arrows, and care kit before her. Following the familiar routine of checking the arrows' fletching, shafts, and tips, slowly soothing her racing mind. Picking up her hunting knife, she removed a tiny bur from one of the shafts, which had gone unnoticed, before turning her attention to her bow.

The polished mahogany felt cool to her touch and she traced the flowering vines etched into it and filled with mithril. Dipping her fingers in oil, she ran them down the bowstring, smoothing any fibers that could snare an arrow. Finally satisfied, she stood up and slung her quiver back on.

"Always so meticulous. Makes you a fine archer." A voice behind her laughed.

She spun around and was met with a pair of twinkling blue eyes. "Should have know it was you." Rumil grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're the only one who sneaks up on me on purpose."

He feigned suprise. "I would never do such a thing!" His face became very serious. "What are you doing out here at this hour?"

"Couldn't sleep." She walked a few paces away and took up position in front of a target.

"Right, and I'm a dragon." He followed her. "You had a nightmare didn't you?"

She didn't answer, just nocked an arrow and fired. It landed a good distance outside the center circle. "It's more than that isn't it...?" She gave a tiny nod and he groaned in comprehension. "You didn't tell Glorfindel about them and he was there when it happened."

"Aye." She fired another arrow, it landed closer in than the first shot.

"Oh, Zal. Why didn't you tell him?"

"I honestly don't know. I keep hoping they'll just stop. I don't like how vulnerable they make me feel. I came to terms with what happened to me. I had hoped that would keep them at bay." Another shot nailed the target dead-on.

"Nice shot." He turned back to her. "Perhaps you should start the herbs again? And of course you need to talk to Glorfindel. I am sure your brother has already had a word with him, though." He smiled weakly. "Can't say as how that's a comfort or not."

She chuckled softly. "Actually they're getting along suprisingly well."

"Worse yet." The two stared at each other for a moment before laughing. "He still hasn't forgiven me has he?"

"Honestly, Rumil, I doubt he ever will. You did pounce him and give him a rather large love-bite."

"You two look alike! It was dark and I only saw his back. How was I to know it wasn't you?!"

"If Orophin and I hadn't come along there might have been a kinslaying."

"Indeed. I was quite relieved when you arrived." He smiled. "I've never been happier to hide behind one of my brothers than at that very moment." The two friends shared another laugh.

"Rumil?"

"Aye, Zal?"

"Thank you."

"You're quite welcome." Rumil pulled out his bow and grinned. "Best of ten, loser buys the drinks."

"You're on, mellon-nin."

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Azalea and Rumil stood in front of her talan almost an hour later. She opened the door and they stepped inside. Glorfindel immediately looked up, locking stares with her. After a couple tense moments, Rumil broke the ice with a rather cheery. "Lose something, Fin?"

Glorfindel snorted and stood up, just in time for Círdan to grumble from out on the balcony. "Rumil? Don't you come anywhere near me!"

The elf in question grinned mischeviously. "What, no polite hello?"
Azalea bit her bottom lip in an attempt not to laugh.

"No!" The voice shouted from the balcony.

Rumil laughed softly and leaned in, giving Azalea a peck on the cheek. "See you later, Zal." He raised his voice. "See you around Círdan. Mayhap we can catch up on old times, eh?"

"Imp!"

"Ogre!" With a bow, the chuckling Galadhrim exited the talan.

Azalea laughed and turned back to Glorfindel. Seeing his glare, she shuffled her feet nervously. "I'm sorry if I worried you. I needed some air and the thought of a little target practice..." She trailed off helplessly. Hazarding a glance up at him, she gasped. He was smiling! "What..?"

"You look like an elfing confessing to stealing cookies." He sighed. "I was really worried about you. When I found you were gone...Why didn't you tell me about the nightmares? Is that what Celeborn asked you about that day at lunch?"

She nodded and sat down. "Aye. It's why I requested leave from duty. Haldir thinks it's best when I have them to stay here. A distracted warden is a hazard on the fences." Toying idly with one of her braids, she thought long and hard on how to phrase her next words. "The dreams come and go. I hadn't had them in awhile, nearly a century, but they just showed up again a few weeks ago. I had one the night before you arrived in Lothlorien, a second at the fences the night before I returned. That last one was the third. I've never understood what triggers them, but as you noticed, my scars burn during and after them." With a shrug she glanced up at Glorfindel, he was looking at her thoughtfully.

"Uh, Zale?" Both turned at Círdan's voice. He seemed much more steady on his feet, but the hangover from Mordor was apparently creeping up on him. "Don't be angry with me over this. I talked long with King Thranduil before coming here. He gave me a suggestion to help with the dreams. It may not cure them totally, but...if you are willing to try....it may lessen the intensity of them."

She watched her brother with interest as he settled on the sofa next to her. His tunic was gone and the twin bands of interlocking Tengwar encircling his biceps stood out. The black ink was stark even against the golden hue his skin had taken on. Several other runes graced his form. One on his left hipbone, three across his lower back and one between his shoulderblades.

The Mirkwood elves differed from the Galadrhim in that they marked their skin in such a way. "What is it?" Her brother was avoiding telling her what it was Thranduil had told him.

"Listen, I know you're a Galadhrim, miunthel, but just hear this out. He thinks a ward, inked out around your scars, might help."

Her eyes widened. "A what? You want me to tattoo myself? That is quite unheard of among the Galadhrim. Sure a few of the wardens have a fallen lover's name on their bodies." She looked up to meet his brown eyes, then turned to Glorfindel. He looked just as lost in this as she was.

"It is more common in Imladris. Erestor has several intricate patterns that I have seen when we spar. Even the twins have them, matching runes on opposite hips. I would not think any less of you for considereing this as an option. What if it really worked? What if it lessened the intensity of the nightmares?"

She sighed. "Then it would be worth it and more." She turned back to Círdan. "The procedure is quite painful is it not?"

Círdan nodded slowly. "Bordering on excrutiating...I would have to get the ink deep enough so it wouldn't fade...and drawing out the complex runes would take the better part of two days to complete..." He gave a slow shrug. "It is all up to you. I will do it myself, but you must understand that if we start, there is no turning back."

Azalea took a deep breath. "If it even helps a little I would be eternally grateful to you and Thranduil." A long moment of silence followed, then she nodded. "I will do it. We will begin tomorrow if you feel up to it."

He nodded. "I will get one of Lord Elrond's famous morning-after potions, and prepare my kit. We will start after breakfast."

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Glorfindel lay in bed awake after they had retired. He hoped Azalea could withstand the procedure. He had watched Erestor get the finishing touches put on one of his, and the normally stoic advisor had been on the edge of his control. "Please Eru let this help her." He whispered and placed a soft kiss on her hair. He didn't think he could stand another bout of her writhing and piercing screams. They had tore at his heart. Maybe he could talk to Elrond tomorrow as well. As a healer the half-elf was damn good at figuring things like this out. With a sigh he finally drifted off to sleep.