To Finally Belong

Chapter 11 – Sparks Ignite

Walking over to where Rúmil and Legolas were speaking together quietly, Círa was surprised to see the two elves quit talking when she approached.

“Why did you stop talking just now?” she asked them. They looked at each other. “Were you talking about me and did you stop because I walked over?”

“Well, yes actually,” Rúmil shrugged, embarrassed.

Círa nodded and picked up her bow, saying nothing.

“Do you not wish to know what we were discussing, since it concerned you?” Legolas laughed.

“I guess that if you wanted me to know, you would not have quit talking when I walked over,” she stated, pulling out an arrow.

“I am going to tell you anyway,” Legolas said. “Rúmil and I are concerned about you. What happened between you and that other elf?”

“Tamor,” Rúmil supplied the name.

“Nothing that I cannot handle myself,” Círa said calmly.

“I know Tamor and he does not like to see females in the Galadhrim,” Rúmil told them both. “He has never been beaten by a female at weapons or hand-to-hand combat, yet you did both. I know that he was upset about the sword and knives and I am sure that he must be furious now.”

“That makes no sense to me,” Círa stated. “I thought that elves did not act that way. And why does he not want females in the Galadhrim?”

“Most elves do not act like Tamor. He has some human blood in him and we think that explains his hot temper. He claims that females do not fight as well as males and he doubts their abilities in battle,” Rúmil replied.

“Then did I not just prove him wrong?” she asked, notching her arrow. “He should be happy now.”

“I think that is the problem, Círa; you did just prove him wrong. He knows that females are capable of fighting, but he simply does not like it. I think you have made an enemy with him,” Legolas said, glancing at the elf that was still watching Círa through narrowed eyes.

“I do not fear him,” Círa said evenly as she began to shoot. Her archery skills had improved considerably and now she only had to pause for a moment while taking aim. The fact that she was still far slower than any member of the Galadhrim irked her, but it also pushed her to improve her skills.

“Just be careful, Círa,” Legolas told her, picking up his own bow.

“I am always careful,” was her answer.

~~~~~

“Orophin has invited us to come over tonight,” Círa told Haldir as he pulled her onto his lap. “Since we will be leaving for the Northern Fences tomorrow, he wanted to have a little celebration first.”

He debated for a moment. It was always fun to go to Orophin’s get-togethers but Haldir had hoped to spend a quiet evening at home, reading a book with Círa in his arms. Their lives would be a little different while at the Northern Fences and Haldir didn’t know how much time he and Círa would have to spend together, without others around. One look at her face told him how excited she was about going to Orophin’s talan and he relented immediately.

“Yes, perhaps we could do that,” he said, unable to resist kissing her.

She returned his kiss, sliding her arms around his neck as he pulled her tighter against his body. He had intended for it to be a small kiss, but it soon grew into something more, something that neither of them wanted to end. Haldir caught himself trying to decide whether to take her to the bedroom or to move her to the pillows on the floor and that realization finally brought him to his senses. Stopping abruptly, he leaned back, panting.

“We must stop, Círa,” he said, concerned. “I lose my control with you. This is much more difficult than I had ever anticipated.”

“Then why are we still torturing ourselves?” she asked from her position on his lap. “I love you, Haldir, and I am more than ready to give myself to you.”

A small sound escaped his throat at her confession and he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting for control.

“That is not the issue, Círa,” he reminded her. “We are going to do this right so please do not make it harder on me than it already is. If we rush into something now, you may end up regretting it for the rest of your life.”

He pulled her against his chest, but held her lightly, “I wish for you to enjoy each step as we go and that way it will be so much better when we finally join. And I promise you, Círa, we will join soon. I will only be able to hold myself back for so long.”

She smiled up at him. “I will quit being difficult since I know that it will not be a long wait.”

“If you do not get off of my lap, it might be an even shorter wait,” he growled into her ear.

“You put me here!” she reminded him.

“Yes, I did. Let us go to Orophin’s talan. We will probably be safer over there than being alone here.” He touched his mouth to hers before gently sucking on her bottom lip and running his tongue over it. She moaned and he deepened the kiss, allowing his tongue to meet with hers before pulling away at last. He continued to hold her for a while, feeling her heart beat against his chest and after one last hard kiss, he stood and pulled her to her feet. They needed to leave.

When they arrived at Orophin’s talan, the elf had food spread out all over his table and he handed Haldir and Círa each a glass of wine as soon as they walked in the door. From the looks of it, both Orophin and Rúmil had gotten a head start and were now feeling no pain as they laughed and ate. When Orophin welcomed Círa with a kiss, Haldir raised an eyebrow, wondering how the elleth would react. She glanced at Haldir, confused, and he mouthed the words, “it is the other kind.”

Relieved, she nodded and followed him to fill a plate with meats, cheeses and bread. By the time they were on their second glass of wine, the four elves were sitting on the floor in a small circle, laughing and telling stories. Haldir had seated himself behind Círa and pulled her back against his chest now, softly kissing her cheek or ear every now and then. When he wasn’t kissing her, he had his hand on her arm or leg but there was constant contact between the two of them.

Haldir had been right, Círa thought; the little things such as the small kisses and touches were making their courtship so much better. She would have felt cheated to have missed out on this. Not that they could not continue to play with each other later, after they had joined, but now it was adding to the anticipation; making her look forward to eventually joining with Haldir even more.

Círa could not remember when she had ever had as much fun as she was having this night with Haldir and his brothers. It was almost as though she belonged here with these elves and that thought surprised her. She had never truly felt as though she belonged with the Orcs and it occurred to her that she had come home in more than just the physical sense. She glanced over her shoulder to see Haldir raise an eyebrow as his brothers relayed yet another story of their childhood, painting a picture of a caring but strict older brother who looked out for his younger siblings. It was obvious to her that the three of them were very close and she wondered what it would be like to have a brother or sister.

~~~

Orophin and Rúmil had both noticed the attention that their brother was lavishing upon Círa and it surprised them as neither of them had ever witnessed this behavior in him before. They had seen him dance with elleths at celebrations, but he had always kept his love life very private, never showing any public displays of affection. It was obvious to them that he was in love with Círa, though he had said very little to either of them about her.

“Orophin, I think it is time!” Rúmil said suddenly.

“Time for what?” Haldir asked warily. Sometimes his brothers were not to be trusted: often, in fact.

Orophin had stepped away to the kitchen area and he soon returned with a large glass bottle full of an amber colored liquid that he now swirled around, grinning wickedly. Haldir simply raised an eyebrow as he regarded his brother with a question.

“It is something that I received in trade for some of our wine,” Orophin informed his brother. “This is called whisky and men make it from grain. It is quite strong.”

Taking their empty wine glasses, he poured them each a small amount and warned them only to sip it. After just a small sniff, Haldir made a face and held the offensive liquid away from his nose.

“It certainly smells very strong,” he said, glancing at Círa who was now sipping the amber liquid indifferently.

Taking her actions as a challenge, Haldir took a small sip and began to gag as the fiery liquor ran down his throat. When he proceeded to have a violent coughing attack, both of his brothers were reduced to fits of laughter at his reaction. Seeing Círa calmly sipping from her glass made it even worse as Rúmil looked back and forth between the two.

“Let me see you drink some of this horrible liquid!” Haldir challenged his brothers, when he could finally speak. Rúmil’s own reaction was not much different than Haldir’s had been, though he took a smaller taste. Orophin was able to get a couple of sips down with only minor coughing, which made Haldir suspect that his brother had been practicing. They all watched in amazement now as Círa grabbed the bottle and refilled her glass.

“How can you drink that?” Haldir asked, shocked.

“It is no stronger than what the Orcs drink and in fact, it tastes much better,” she admitted, turning her head to smile at him. “I think that maybe we should have that drinking contest that we once talked about.”

Haldir began to protest, suspecting that the elleth very likely would win. His traitorous brothers, unfortunately, thought it was a wonderful idea and encouraged it. Haldir glared at Orophin and Rúmil, knowing that he was outnumbered and wondering if this whole evening had been a set-up so that they could see Círa out-drink him. Grabbing his glass, he managed to choke a small sip of the burning liquid down his throat without needing a healer. He sat the glass of whisky on the floor at the same time that Círa set her empty glass down, smiling at him as she crossed her arms.

“I shall wait for you to catch up,” she told him, causing his brothers to taunt and prod Haldir a bit more. It took him several minutes to finish two glasses but it seemed as though it was becoming easier to drink the horrible fluid; or maybe his throat was just numb from the noxious drink.

By the third shot, Haldir was trying to convince everybody that he was the Marshwarden of Lothlórien and growing upset when he was only met with bouts of laughter each time he said it. Rúmil had tears streaming down his eyes as he tried to ask Haldir which marsh it was that he controlled and the question sent Orophin into another coughing fit. Of the four elves present, only Círa appeared to be in complete control, but she too was feeling the effects of the whiskey. Grinning happily, she went to pour a fourth drink but was stopped when Haldir placed his hand on the bottle.

“I think you have had quite enough,” Haldir told her sternly.

“I have had enough?” she asked, grabbing the bottle away from him. “I have only begun to walk down the path of total inebriation. I do not expect this contest to be over for quite some time.”

“That is right, it is I who have had enough,” he said, glad that it was straightened out now. “I admit defeat and now I am going home and going to bed. Do you wish to join me?”

Círa gave him a strange look and he realized what he had said. “I meant for the first part.”

“I would not mind the second part, either,” she said, causing Orophin to spew whiskey across the room.

“She has that effect on a lot of people,” Rúmil told his brother.

Círa did not comment but stood to help Orophin clean up the mess that they had made before leaving with the “Marshwarden.” She cringed as he stumbled a bit, leaving the talan, but once he was on the ground he seemed to be walking satisfactorily.

“Shall we go for a little walk?” he asked. “I would like to get some air and clear my head.”

“Yes, I would like that,” Círa told him, taking his hand. He smiled, surprised by her action. They walked through the trees for a half hour before returning to the talan and by this time, Haldir had worn off most of the effects of the alcohol. While Círa was changing in the bathing chamber, Haldir sat on his bed and took off his tunic and boots, leaving on only his leggings as he prepared for bed. He turned at the sound of her entering the room and was once again struck by her beauty. When she reached up to loosen her braid, the tunic rode up to the tops of her bare legs and he found his eyes riveted to her as she pulled her fingers through her hair.

Noticing him at last, she dropped her arms to her sides, meeting his gaze. When he rose and came towards her this time she thought that he was regarding her much as a hunter would eye its prey. Knowing whom the prey was, she found herself moving backwards as quickly as he was coming forward, his intensity causing her heartbeat to quicken. Before long, Círa felt the wall behind her and knew that she was trapped, but decided that she did not really mind, after all. Stopping when their bodies touched, Haldir entwined his fingers in hers and forced her hands above her head, pinning them to the wall. At the same time, he pressed her firmly in place with his body and kissed her with a passion that surpassed anything she had felt from him thus far. He pulled back long enough to very slowly look her over from head to toe before once more pinning her against the wall. His bare chest was glorious and she would have run her hands over it had they not been trapped above her head. Círa noticed that her knees felt as weak as they had the night of the infamous kiss and Haldir must have sensed it because before she knew it, he had pulled her legs up for her to wrap around his waist; her back still against the wall. He now had one arm supporting her legs while the other hand cupped the side of her jaw as he continued to kiss her. His fingers caressed her cheek as his thumb traveled up and down her pale, smooth throat. Now that Círa’s hands were free, she slid them across his smooth, muscular shoulders, and down his back, feeling his muscles jerk beneath her touch.

Haldir’s mouth moved down to Círa’s neck, marking her as he sucked on her pale skin and bit it lightly, wringing small sounds from her as she encouraged him to continue. As he pressed his hard member against her, she found herself writhing against his body, pleading with him to take her to his bed.

“Oh, yes, Círa,” his strained voice whispered into her ear. “I need to be inside you, now. I need to feel you around me.”

He knew that the alcohol was weakening his resolve and he fought with himself because this was not the way he had wanted to take her. He had made a vow to himself as well as to Legolas and he knew that to join with Círa while in his alcohol-clouded state would be breaking both promises. The problem was that he honestly did not know if he could stop with Círa encouraging him to continue, moving seductively against him as she told him of her desires. This union was very obviously something they both wanted and neither of them wished to wait another minute. As his body was grinding against hers in a steady rhythm and she was moaning into his mouth, he knew that he did not have the self-control to stop voluntarily.

Wrapping an arm around her back, Haldir carried Círa to the pillows as she kept her legs hooked around his waist. Setting her down as carefully as he could, he pulled free of her legs and lay next to her instead. Looking into his eyes, she saw the anguish on his face and felt that it mirrored her own. This was not the way she wanted their first experience to be, either, but she did not want to stop any more than he did.

Haldir put an arm beneath Círa’s head as he once again captured her mouth with his. His right hand began a slow journey starting with her bare leg and continuing up to slip beneath the loose-fitting tunic where it finally came to a stop on her breast. He touched her tentatively, not sure what her reaction would be, but she arched into his hand letting him know exactly what she wanted. He rubbed a thumb across her nipple, hardening it instantly. As if in silent agreement, they both reached down at the same time to pull her tunic off, leaving her in only a sheer chemise. Haldir groaned at the sight of her scantily clad body. It was as provocative to him as if she had been completely naked.

“Círa, we should not be doing this yet,” he told her as his hand further explored her breast and flat stomach, “but I do not wish to stop.”

She ran two fingers down his well-defined torso until coming to a sudden stop when she hooked the fingers into the top of his leggings, eliciting another groan from him.

“Why should we stop?” she asked him. “We love each other do we not?”

Haldir stared at her, his hand frozen in place. He could almost feel himself deflating. Did he love her? How would he know for sure?

“Haldir?” she asked, the smile leaving her face. “Do you not love me?”

“I think that I love you,” he told her honestly. “I have never been in love before so I am not certain.”

He knew instantly that he had hurt her, though she tried to make her face expressionless. Círa pulled her hand away as though his body might burn her.

“You are right, then. We are not ready to join yet,” she told him quietly.

“Círa, please understand…” he stroked her cheek.

“I do understand,” she said, meaning it. “When Legolas asked me if I loved you, I gave him a similar answer. I did not know for sure, but I thought that I loved you. Since then, something has happened and now I am completely certain that I do love you and if you do not feel the same way yet, then we should wait until you have no doubts.”

“I am sorry,” he told her, kissing her fingertips.

“Do not be,” she smiled. “I can sense how you feel about me and I have no doubt that it will not be long until you can tell me that you love me and know that it is true. For now, we shall just continue to play with each other as we have been doing. I have enjoyed it.”

He smiled back at her, never having expected such a mature response from somebody as inexperienced as Círa. She was changing and growing emotionally every day, though still retaining the core personality that made her who she was. He held her tightly as they lay together on the pillows, finally falling asleep in each other’s arms for the first time.

~~~

They woke together early the next morning, arms still wrapped around one another. Smiling at the elleth, Haldir kissed her softly before eventually untangling himself and rising. He went into his bedroom and returned moments later with some garments that he handed to Círa: the uniform of the Galadhrim. She put the tunic and leggings on in the bathing chamber then came out to model them for Haldir, realizing at last that it was real; she was a warden. She could not keep from smiling at the thought. Haldir helped her put on her cloak and the pin that would hold it in place, standing back to admire her when he was done.

“You are by far the most beautiful of all of the Galadhrim,” he assured Círa, kissing her. “Are you ready to go?”

She nodded her assent, rather anxious to begin her new job today. They left the talan and met up with a group of wardens that included both of Haldir’s brothers as well as about forty others. Círa was not happy to see that Tamor was also included but she did her best to ignore him, even when he threw an occasional glare her way.

Feeling a hand on her shoulder, Círa controlled her urge to defend herself and turned instead to see who was there. She was surprised to see that Legolas had come to wish her goodbye, though he assured her that he would still be in Caras Galadhon when she returned. It seemed that the dwarf had decided that he would like to stay a while longer. She hugged him briefly before they began their march towards the border.


According to Orophin, they would make their way to the farthest point on the Northern Fences, occasionally dropping off groups of two or three at various locations along the route. When a group was dropped off, the wardens that were being replaced were allowed to return to Caras Galadhon. Because Haldir was in charge, he could not walk with Círa but instead moved up and down the column of wardens making sure they knew where they would be positioned and speaking with each of the returning wardens before they were allowed to leave their posts.

Círa spent the morning walking with Rúmil and Orophin, but at noon the two elves were sent to check out some possible Orc activity in another direction, leaving her alone towards the back of the line. Círa didn’t mind because it gave her a chance to think about the situation with Haldir and wonder where it was going to go. The idea of the Marchwarden ever binding himself to her was ridiculous, now that she understood the concept of binding. Rúmil had been the one to educate her on that issue. No, Haldir would wish to bind himself to an elleth that was gentle and kind, like her mother had been, somebody that would bear elflings for him one day. She laughed at the thought of raising elflings. It was something that she had never even considered and she doubted that she would ever have the skills to accomplish such a feat. That meant that she would not be somebody that Haldir would ever consider for a mate and any relationship they had would be temporary. She supposed that it would be easier to give him up someday than it would be to share him with other elleths now. Hopefully they would have several years together before he decided that he would like to bind himself to another elleth and raise a family.

Deep in thought on the subject, Círa didn’t even hear Tamor approach from behind until it was too late. Before she knew what had happened, she had her legs swept out from beneath her and was shoved to the ground. Because she didn’t have time to brace herself well, she hit the ground hard with her face and shoulder, rolling instantly to come up in a defensive posture. It did not surprise her to see Tamor standing nearby.

“Wardens need to be aware of what is happening around them at all times,” he said to her. “I get the feeling that your mind was elsewhere.”

“Why did you do that?” she asked, angry and confused. “We were not in training.”

“I told you that I would make you pay for what you did,” he reminded her.

Círa’s pupil’s dilated as she felt a heavy anger settle over her. She had to force herself to breathe evenly to keep from going into a killing rage.

“I beat you fairly,” she said through clenched teeth. “What you did was not fair. You ambushed me.”

He began to reply but hesitated as the last two wardens passed them, glancing back curiously. When they were out of earshot, he continued. “You do not deserve fair treatment,” he told her disdainfully. “You are nothing but a harlot that has gained admittance to the Galadhrim through the use of your body.”

“That is not true!” she said, not understanding why he would even think something so horrible. “Lady Galadriel assigned me this position as soon as I arrived and it was against Haldir’s wishes! I think that I have earned the right to be a warden since that time!”

“You are still nothing but a harlot,” his voice was full of disgust. “Any elleth that could join with an Uruk does not deserve to be called an elf. You should be banished from our realm and made to continue your life with the Orcs and Uruks that you seem to care for so much. How will we ever know that you are to be trusted?”

She was so stunned by his words that she did not even notice the blood running down her face until it began to splat on her new uniform.

“No!” she said, upset, as she tried to lean over and keep the blood off of her cloak and tunic.

Eyes back on Tamor now, she told him coldly, “If you ever touch me again, outside of training, I will make you sorry that you were ever born.”

“Is that a threat?” he asked, stepping towards her as she continued to wipe the blood away.

“It is a promise!” she said, angry now and growing less concerned about her tunic by the minute as she took a step towards him.

“Do us all a favor and go away,” he told her, cruelly. “You are not needed here and you are doing nothing but distracting our Marchwarden, which puts us all in danger.” He shoved her and that was a mistake. Before he could blink, she attacked with a fury, hitting him in the midsection with her fists. He had not expected it and it knocked the wind from him. He bent over in pain, though he made it look worse than it really was to try and lure her closer. When she stepped forward to see if she had hurt him, he lunged at her and hit her hard, taking her down. Knowing that nobody else was around and that this was not a practice match, Círa began to fall into survival mode. She did not know if Tamor would try to kill her, but if he tried he would not succeed. Growling and snapping at him with her teeth, she finally succeeded in flipping him off of her. She would not go for her weapon until he did, but if he did, he would die. He could not beat her with either a sword or knives and if he drew first, if meant that he was willing to fight to the death. Tamor seemed to understand that and he did not go for his weapons but instead tried to punch her to get her off of him.

“Will you leave me alone if I let you up?” she asked, bracing herself for the punches that he threw.

“I will not leave you alone until you agree to go away!” he spat the words at her and punched again, this time connecting with her jaw. Her head flew back with the impact and he took the opportunity of catching her off balance to once again flip her beneath him. He grabbed her neck and held her down that way, cutting off her air. Desperate now and beginning to believe that he actually did want to kill her, Círa broke free in a violent move and went for his throat with her teeth. She would not kill him but she would get his attention. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, he flipped her back on top of him as her teeth were just making contact with his neck. Círa didn’t understand why he would give her this advantage until she was roughly pulled off of Tamor.

“Círa!” Haldir said, flabbergasted at the site of the blood covering her mouth and the warden’s neck. “What have you done?”

Rúmil had come back, too, and was now looking over Tamor who lay on the ground appearing disoriented. “She is insane,” Tamor said quietly. “She attacked me.”

“No!” Círa said, “He started it. This is my blood, not his!”

Haldir frowned as he looked at her, waiting to see what Rúmil said as he tried to examine Tamor’s neck. Tamor pushed Rúmil away, insisting that he didn’t want anybody touching him.

“Who does the blood come from, Tamor?” Haldir asked.

“I do not know,” he said, looking dazed. “It happened so fast.”

“You do not believe me,” Círa said, not understanding why Haldir would ask Tamor rather than her. Breaking free from his grip, she turned and ran into the forest, distressed by the thought of Haldir not taking her at her word. Maybe Tamor was right and she should not be here as a member of the Galadhrim. Perhaps she was putting Haldir in a bad position forcing him to take sides between her and another warden. Círa hadn’t gone far when Rúmil caught up with her.

“Círa!” he said grabbing her arm. Still tense from the fight, she started to swing her elbow back and stopped when she realized that it was Rúmil. Completely confused now, she sat on the forest floor and put her head in her hands. She would not cry and be weak but she could not look at Rúmil, either.

“What happened?” he asked, crouching down next to her. She told him the whole story, starting with Tamor’s threat back at the training fields and ending with the fight that had just happened. Rúmil nodded, encouraging her to continue and when she was done, he carefully wiped the blood from her face with a piece of dampened cloth. He found that the blood did indeed come from her nose, as he had suspected. Círa winced slightly when he touched the sore spot on her jaw where the other elf had hit her and a muscle in Rúmil’s jaw twitched when she told him about the punch. Moments later, Haldir approached.

“Tamor said that you attacked him for no reason,” the Marchwarden began. Rúmil closed his eyes. This was not the best way to approach the elleth and Haldir had still not learned that. Sure enough, Círa’s back stiffened and she pushed away Rúmil’s hand when he tried to finish cleaning off her face.

“And you believe that what he says is true?” she asked, growing angry.

“I did not say that I believed it,” he replied, his face expressionless. “When there is a problem between two of my wardens I always ask to hear each warden’s story. I am asking you now.”

She looked into his face and saw no understanding and no compassion, only distrust and disbelief.

“I will say nothing,” she said. “I should not need to defend myself like this when I was the one who was attacked.”

“Círa, do not put me in the position where I have to accept Tamor’s word! You must tell me your side of the story,” he insisted.

“Why do you not ask your brother?” she said, standing. “I told him what happened. I will not tell you when you come at me with accusations!”

She was standing inches from his face now and he was growing frustrated. He had certain methods he used in dealing with his wardens and the same rules would apply to Círa as well as the others. He would not deviate from his routine for her, no matter how badly he wanted to kill Tamor right now. It was not even in her best interest for him to do so. As Marchwarden, he was used to being obeyed and he did not feel the need to explain his actions to her. “Just tell me what happened, Círa!”

“No,” she said, calmly. Besides the fact that he obviously didn’t believe her, she had never allowed anybody else to fight her battles for her. She was not about to start now.

“No,” she repeated. “What happened was between Tamor and me and it shall stay that way. I will fight my own battles.”

Haldir began to sputter, furious that she would not give him the information that he had demanded. He was the Marchwarden! That was not the only problem; as Haldir looked at the blood dripping from Círa’s nose and as he observed her jaw that was already beginning to turn colors, he wanted to go beat the other elf to a pulp. If she would not talk, there was nothing he could do officially and for him to lay a hand on the other elf without a good reason would not be tolerated by Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Not trusting himself to speak, he spun on his heels and walked away, leaving Círa to walk with Rúmil.

“Rúmil, you must promise not to tell Haldir what happened,” Círa told the elf.

Rúmil’s head swiveled towards her at that. “Why? You just told him to ask me!”

“Tamor already thinks that I am a warden because of…special favors that I am doing for Haldir, to put it nicely. If Haldir handles this problem for me, it will just reinforce what Tamor already believes. I must deal with this myself.”

“You do not have to do that, Círa. Occasionally we have situations like this and Haldir always handles them. It will not cause you to lose your credibility. Will you not please trust me on this?”

She shook her head and said quietly. “I am sorry. I must do this my way and it is not over yet, I am sure.”

~~~

It was dark when Círa and the three brothers stopped at last. They had dropped off the other wardens along the way and Haldir had just sent the last three home after speaking with them. Rúmil and Orophin climbed up the rope ladder to the flet and Haldir motioned for Círa to follow. She folded her arms for a moment, not wanting to be confined in a small place with Haldir right now. Shaking his head, Haldir also climbed the ladder, sending Orophin down to deal with the truculent elleth.

“I will sleep on the forest floor,” she told him. “I do not wish to be near His Grouchiness tonight.”

“Círa, it is not safe here on the ground. We are on the border now. Orcs often cross through here, especially at night,” Orophin explained.

“I do not fear Orcs,” she told him. Of course, things had changed and she would be wise to fear Orcs now. If they caught her she would suffer a worse fate than any of the others because she would be considered a traitor.

Reluctantly, she climbed up the ladder after Orophin. Unlike the talans in Caras Galadhon, those along the border of the realm were not luxurious. There were no walls and no bath or kitchen but only a platform with three bedrolls laid out on the floor. The talan seemed larger than the one in Caras Galadhon, but Círa thought that it might simply be because it was so bare. From the looks of it, all four of them would be sharing the same talan and that was good because she did not want to be alone with Haldir. Looking over the edge of the talan, she hoped that she would not roll in her sleep because it was a long way to the ground. Sleeping in the trees was for the birds, she thought, literally. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, Círa saw Haldir look down at his bedroll and then meet her eyes. She quickly looked away. If he thought she was going to sleep all snuggled up to him as she had done the previous night, he was in for a surprise. Rúmil and Orophin climbed into their bedrolls and still Haldir watched her in silence. She would make it simple for him. She stubbornly rolled up in her cloak and lay on the hard floor, trying to avoid her bruised spots as much as possible.

“Círa, come over here with me,” Haldir requested, sitting down and patting the blanket.

“You must be jesting,” she said, facing away from him. She had to admit; a fluffy bedroll sounded nice right now with her aching muscles and bruises from the fight with Tamor. The floor felt harder than usual, but she would never admit it.

Haldir sighed and picked up his bedroll. “Come with me, Círa.”

She sat up and looked at him. “Where?”

“You and I are going to the small talan where we can talk about this and not keep my brothers awake all night,” he explained to her.

“A wonderful idea,” Orophin said from his bedroll. “The tension is so thick here right now that I feel as though I am drowning.”

Feeling guilty about causing distress in Orophin and Rúmil, Círa followed the Marchwarden down the ladder and through the forest to another talan. Haldir climbed the tree and lowered the rope ladder for her, but she ignored it and climbed up the way he did, just to show him that she could do so. He said nothing, but rolled up the ladder and laid out the bedroll.

“I only see one bedroll,” she said, hands on her hips.

“Then we shall have to share,” he informed her.

“No, we will not,” she corrected him. “I will sleep on the floor as I had planned at the other talan.”

“Círa, stop it,” he said in a quiet voice. “I hate this.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you chose not to believe me today!” she said, still fuming.

“I never had a chance to disbelieve you because you never told me what happened!” he reminded her.

She whirled on him now. “Haldir, I saw it in your eyes. When you first arrived, I saw the look on your face and you were accusing me. You pulled me off of him and asked what I had done.”

“When I first arrived, you had Tamor on the ground with your teeth on his throat! When you looked up, your face was covered with blood! Yes, I admit that for a fleeting moment the possibility did cross my mind that maybe, just maybe, you were not simply helping him fix his tunic or some other friendly thing,” he said, agitated. His eyes softened and he added, “But, at the same time, I assumed that he had provoked it.”

She wanted to tell him what had happened, how Tamor had flipped her on top to make it look as though she was the aggressor, when only moments before he’d had her pinned to the ground by the neck. Instead, she remained silent.

Haldir continued, hoping that Círa was planning on being rational now.

“What you will have to remember, is that I cannot treat you any differently while on duty than I treat the others,” he explained. “If I had automatically taken your side against Tamor, without looking into the incident first, what would that have done?”

“It would have made Tamor resent me even more,” Círa admitted.

“And not only Tamor,” Haldir added. “Others would have seen it and assumed that you were getting special treatment because of how I feel about you. They do not know, but they suspect that there is something between us. You would have no longer been treated as their equal. Is that what you want?”

She looked down at her feet. “No, it is not. I wish for the others to treat me as their equal and that is why I must take care of the problem myself. I just hated to see you look at me like that, with distrust. It made me feel like I did when I first met you and you hated me.”

Haldir went to her and enveloped her in a tight hug. “I trust you very much, Círa. Please know that. If I have to publicly treat you as I do all my other wardens, know that what is in my heart may be something completely different.”

She nodded against his chest and he kissed her.

“Let us get some sleep,” he said, leading her to the bed. “Today was a very long day.”

Haldir lay down behind Círa and wrapped his arms around her protectively. He felt himself grow hard almost instantly as she pushed her body back into his. This was exactly why he had planned to share the talan with his brothers, thinking that it would be safer. He had to remind himself not to start anything now even though he was fairly certain that he did love the elleth. When he had seen Rúmil washing the blood off her face today and had realized that it had indeed come from her, he had felt such a strong need to protect her that it had been almost overwhelming. His desire had been to pulverize Tamor, but his duties as Marchwarden would not allow that. Seeing the bruise on her jaw had increased his anger. He had never felt this way about an elleth before.

It was frustrating, he thought, his mind back on Tamor. If Círa would not accuse him, Haldir’s hands were tied. His brothers, on the other hand, sounded like they might go after the other elf themselves, though Haldir had asked them not to. Círa was right. If she were to continue to be a warden, she might have to deal with him on her own. If Haldir ever saw Tamor touch a hair on her head, though, he’d probably kill the other elf. Not doing anything about it was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done.

~To Be Continued~