Scenes from a Life

Warnings: Melodrama? Angst, at least. No smut in this chapter. I cried when I wrote it. Anybody still there?

Disclaimer: All elves mentioned belong to Tolkien, only Eadhild is all mine. And just like everybody else, I don't make any money from this...

Beta: Mary Aseltyne

Chapter summary: Haldir says farewell to a love that could never be.

Author's notes: This was difficult to write, towel warnings are more to my taste than handkerchief warnings, but I felt I needed to. If you like it - go read my inspiration, "Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth", in "The History of Middle-Earth", Volume 10.

Feedback: It would be much appreciated.

Timeline: Fourth Age, nearly forty years after the War of the Ring. Thirty years have passed since the previous chapter.

***

"I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes..."

(William Shakespeare, "Much Ado About Nothing")

***

Eadhild led a quiet life after her return from the mountain halls of the Elvenking. She spoke little of the years spent with the wood-elves, preferring to hide it in her heart. The beautiful gowns were never worn again, and after several years she began finding other uses for the materials. Little by little, the rooms of the inn were enhanced with cushions and curtains with streaks of velvet among the linen, and the working women had silk ribbons in their hair. A piece of each fabric was saved, and when there were no customers around, she sat before the fire-place and turned them into a quilt. She did not regret her short life at the court, and enjoyed being surrounded by memories.

There were other males in her life, other elves, but only occasional visitors. Erestor came by a couple of times, and Orophin, but mostly the fair faces were new to her. And unless the Elf was known to her, she preferred to stay in the background, wishing the younger maidservants to taste the same pleasure she had enjoyed so many times. It also spared her the indignity of not being chosen. She was a practical woman with few illusions.

The decision to put the dresses to better use had not been difficult, especially when they didn't fit her anymore, but she had a hard time parting with the jewellery. Not that she had kept that much, only the malachite necklace she always wore, and a small number of white crystals. These gems seemed to light up with an inner fire whenever the sun shone upon them, and when outside, she sometimes shook them out of their pouch to watch them glitter and sparkle in her hand.

But she had made up her mind when the inn-keeper died and his sons declared that they would sell the establishment, or close it, if it could not be done quickly enough. The young men had higher ambitions and wished to seek their luck in the capital of Gondor, or even among the king's men, it was said.

Orophin had sold three of the small jewels for her, returning with more miriain than she had ever seen before. Not only had they bought her the inn, but also paid for the services of a few guards. Men, of course, not elves, but they were trustworthy enough and provided the security she had lacked when she was assaulted many years before.

As the years passed by, the inn of Ninglorost flourished under its new owner, and whenever an Elf passed by the small town, he would more often than not make a visit. Sometimes for food, sometimes for lodging, and not seldom for the favours of the maidservants.

***

Haldir looked around with a smirk. Yes, this was it! This was the inn that was famous for its servant women, very generously minded towards all and any Elf who would pass by. This was the place where he had encountered that Rohan maid, but that was long ago now...some fifty years, perhaps, had passed. The maids were all different now, different but still the same kind. Young ...ripe ...waiting for someone to claim them for the night. He looked around again. Maybe the one with the red hair? She looked wild enough... or perhaps the blond, shy one over in the corner? Or the brunette who was walking towards him? Or maybe he didn't even have to choose? There was plenty of time since he didn't have to leave until the morning after the next day.

"I'm sorry, my lord Elf, but may I ask a favour of you?" It was the brunette who had spoken. "One of the most faithful servants of this house is soon to leave us," she said, pausing for a second before she continued, as if to make sure he understood what she meant. He understood too well.

"I know that she has had many friends of your kind in her life," the girl continued, "and I think it might be a comfort for her if one of your people would just sit with her briefly. Would you do that for me, my lord?" He looked at her, surprised at the unusual request. "Your kindness will not go unrewarded," she added with a smile, fluttering her eyelids in delightfully inviting manner.

"I hope not," he answered, reaching out quickly to grab her bottom and grinning when he caught her. With a giggle she turned away and bade him follow her to a room behind the main hall. "Her name is Eadhild," said the girl before opening the door. "I will wait for you, my lord". Her meaningful glance was lost on him as he had already passed her, eager to get this strange errand over with.

He looked at the woman lying in the bed under a colourful covering that was in sharp contrast to the simple surroundings. It was clear from her worn look that she was gone long towards fading. But her face was not without beauty, the marks of experience nothing to be ashamed of. He sat on the edge of the bed, tentatively, careful not to frighten her in case she was not yet aware of his presence.

"Thank you for coming, Elf," she said. "Forgive the folly of an old woman; I just wanted to lay my eyes a last time upon one of the fair kind." She looked up at him, her tired eyes suddenly widening in disbelief. "Haldir? Is that you?" She chuckled, but almost at once started to cry as she realized who had finally come to see her; the one who had been the brightest flame of her heart without even knowing it.

"Eadhild. Do not cry; it grieves me enough to see you like this. Still, it fills my heart with happiness as well, for I thought you were lost to me already. How has life fared with you since last we met?" He took her hand and held it in his, watching it closely. Her skin was so white, so thin he feared breaking it. But his actions seemed to soothe her; her tears ceased and her voice was steady when she replied.

"You make it sound as we had parted but for a day, and indeed that may be what it seems to you, but for me an eternity has passed. Forty-five years, Haldir! More than half of the lifetime of one of my kind. I would lie if I were to say that I have not missed you."

"I have partaken of much pleasure," she continued. "I have led a life that many of my people would consider tainted, immoral, worthy only of condemnation. But I have searched my heart and found my actions pure. I did not realise it then, in my youth, that I was ever looking for the one I had but briefly, the flame that burned my heart so badly it could not completely heal."

Haldir mentally braced himself for what he sensed would come. Was it possible that he had made this impression on her during that one night shared? Her reply came as if she had read his mind.

"You were a flame so bright it surpassed all others. I thought once that I had found its equal, that a kindred spirit was to be found in the proud king I spent more days with than with any other, but alas, in the end that was not to be either. My search was not fulfilled, my wish was not granted, until now when all is too late." She sounded upset now, almost desperate, and while she clung to him with her hands, there was accusation in her voice, and bitterness.

"What is the life of a mortal to you, Haldir? It is nothing. It is but a second in your eternity, a single drop of water in the Sundering Sea, one leaf in all that golden wood of yours. Why should you care? Why should the flame even notice the loss of a moth? Does not the moth have itself to blame for coming too near when the flame burns it to ashes?"

He swallowed hard, affected by her desperation, and wanting so much to comfort her. But she spoke again, before he could.

"I grieve for my wasted life, Haldir," she said, "but I do not blame you. I only wish that it could have been different." Her voice was faltering again, and she stared in front of her without seeing.

"Eadhild", he replied, turning her chin and looking her straight into the eyes. "You are no moth. You are my butterfly. And I will remember you. I will cherish the memory of you, of how you were that day, and night, of how we met today. Your outer form has changed greatly but you are still beautiful. And your soul has matured and is of even greater beauty to me now than your body ever was."

She listened, stunned with his words and the depth in his eyes. Was it possible that he cared for her?

"Yes, Eadhild, your lives are shorter than ours, immensely so. But that does not make you like the lesser creatures of Arda. Do not the unions of Elves and Men bear fruit, if rarely? Is that not evidence enough that you are more like us than any other race? If we are hurt, do we not bleed like you? If heartbroken, do we not cry? Do we not share the same ...desires? Have we not shared something much greater than what creatures of the wild do?"

"I do not blame you, Haldir. I came to you freely. I did not know what I was doing, and I do not know if I could have stopped myself even if had realised what would come after. You were so beautiful. You are beautiful still. You have not changed at all, you are just as young and carefree and alive, still the brightest flame. I am but ashes now and moth or butterfly, my wings are broken. I have crawled my way through life as best I could, always holding the bitterness at bay. I will not let it take me now! Yet it pains me that you never came back."

"Eadhild... I came back for you. I did. It was in the year before the orc raids started again, in spring. I was passing by on my way back from Gondor and stayed here a full fortnight, waiting for you to return, waiting for any news of where you had gone, but none came. Until a merchant mentioned in passing that he had seen a blond maidservant going off north with an Elf-lord. I decided it was foolish of me to think that one Elf among many would be special to you, so I went back to Lórien, to share my embraces with many but my heart with none. With no hope of forgetting, for the memory of the Eldar is long, but knowing that the wound would heal, eventually. I bear you no grudge, Eadhild, you could not know what imprint you left on me. I was too slow to realize it myself, too slow to act upon it."

The year before the orc raids ...that was more than forty years ago, she thought. It was the summer she had spent in Imladris. It was the summer she had pursued her language studies, as well as something more, with Erestor. Cursed be Glorfindel for taking her away from here! But most of all echoed the words of her mother, said in warning when first she went to the White City to indulge in the writings of the wise: "Where much wisdom is, there is much woe, and one who increases his knowledge, adds to his own pain."

Haldir's reply interrupted her thoughts. "Do not mourn that of which you know nothing," he said. "If your love for knowledge had not turned your face towards the Elder children, if indeed you had stayed in your fathers' village, who is to say you would have been more content with your life then? Would we even have met? Would you rather have it undone? For all that I grieve now when I again see you, I would rather have this bittersweet memory to cherish than not having tasted your uniqueness at all."

"Oh, Haldir, I regret nothing. My life has been neither happier nor more sorrowful than what is usually the fate of Men. In fact my share of happiness has been greater, for it has been granted unto me to share some short moments with the beautiful ones... I have seen Elves."

With a deep sigh she closed her eyes and reached for him.

"Hold me, Haldir," she whispered, "for I know not where I'm going."

He sat further up in the bed and held her for a long time, her head resting against his chest. Her breathing became even again, more at peace.

"Would you tell me of your life, Eadhild? Will you allow me to keep as much as possible of you in my memory?" He held his breath waiting for her answer, first afraid that he had offended her, then thinking that she might not have heard. And that was probably for the best.

"I will." Her reply, when it came, stunned him, but made him very happy too. He wished that she could have seen him smile, but didn't want to disturb her by leaning over her.

Her voice was strong and clear as she recounted her life to him. Her childhood on the great pastures outside Edoras tending to the foals and mares. The mundane tasks of an unmarried woman in the villages of Men. The unexpected luxury of an education, and even in the White City of Gondor. Her marriage, and the sad end of it. And her way to the inn, and to the Elves. She spoke much about Elves, and he could tell it was true when she had said that she counted her life full because of them. Some of the details embarrassed him, but they tickled his mind as well. To know that a serious old stick like Erestor had... and... his own brothers!

He resisted interrupting her to tell about them, feeling that it would only grieve her further to know that she could have inquired about him. They could have met again, before it had been too late. And before the rape. Flashes of fury rose in his heart when he heard about it, but he respected her openness. At least Rúmil had helped her through the ordeal. And then king Thranduil. Who would have thought that one would take interest in a mortal? But perhaps he ought not to be surprised - he had learnt quite a few astonishing things about the feared monarch in the years since the treaty of Eryn Lasgalen.

It made him sad to hear that she had not found it possible to stay with the Elvenking, but he could well understand that the thought of her husband, an unworthy mate though he seemed, would prevent her to form a lasting relationship with another. She had been content with her life such as it was, and had not lacked affection.

As he felt the struggle of her fëa to free itself from the used house even as she spoke, he carefully committed to memory every detail of what the woman told him. The bitter, the sweet... and things that were unspoken, but that he sensed in her. A wonder it was, the brevity of a mortal life. He could never cease to take an interest in the daughters of Men, no matter how much it hurt to see them go. That is the curse of my people, he thought, or the blessing. To always remember.

He stroked her soothingly over her forehead, doing what he could to ease her passing. With keen eyes he watched her battle... and finally, he sensed it, the inaudible whisper of a spirit leaving its home. Not its prison, for the body is a cherished abode, if only a temporary dwelling. He imagined an invisible butterfly stretching its wings, fresh from the cocoon. The wonder of it struck him again. She was free, truly immortal, and he the one bound to this earth.

***

Eadhild, beloved owner of the Ninglorost inn, and former maidservant from Rohan, was buried the next day, in a glade hallowed to Eru. Her attire was as ordinary as much of her life had been, grey linen, but around her neck the stones with their mysterious pattern of green and black gleamed in the sun, bearing witness of the wonders she had seen.

She was accompanied by most of the staff, as well as a few of the regular customers. The single Elf in town that day followed too, but at a distance from the others in the procession. Only when the short ceremony was coming to an end did he step forward, a proud warrior briefly bowing his head in reverence before disappearing into the trees.

THE END.

A/N:
- Fëa is the Elvish (Quenya) word for spirit/soul
- Miriain (sg. mirian) is the currency of Gondor
- The quote used by Eadhild's mother is from the Bible, Ecc. 1:18)