The Phoenix's Griffin

Memory.

How tricky it was. How questions had lingered over subtle gestures, non-replies, and half smiles. Everything had taken a tremendous shift that left him physically lurching as truths rearranged, and blinded as lights flooded previously darkened corners.

Haldir slipped through the garden and walked aimlessly through the wood. Too many secrets, important secrets. How could she lie with him night after night? How could she make love with him and have these secrets in her heart? This says much for her regard of you, does it not? Let us be honest here at the last; let us be honest. It’s not the subject of the secrets, it’s that she would not share them with you. Why should she? You are nothing to her. Someone to dally with until…Did you ask her? Erestor’s voice came. No. Just how does one arrive at questions when you have no reference point? Amaras! Amaras and the child yes, he would not question her there, it would only be a painful recollection – painful for who? Yourself, she has been living with this for a very long time, the grief will not be fresh.

Have you ever asked her? No. I silenced her the night she returned. She laughed out of surprise when I held the rings out, but then she had tried to tell me something. Perhaps it was only Amaras she was going to talk of, but you will never know will you because you would not let her speak.

She allowed you to go to Lindon. Are you so blind? The house. The wealth. The portrait? The portrait of her painted with the coronet on her head, only royalty….oh, you are blind and you do not listen.

You truly are …what did she call you? A miracle? Yes, that is indeed you.

The sky dawned red in the east when he put his foot on the first step.

Rúmil opened the door as Haldir rounded the turn of the last steps. Startled he stood uncomprehending for a moment, what? Oh. He ran up and pushed past Rúmil, knocking his brother into the door frame and on through the great room, past Orophin who sat in a chair before the fireplace, through the kitchen and onto the stairs that led up to their room…

“Haldir!” Rúmil called after him, and he knew before his foot touched the landing….

Faltering he walked the loggia and through the open door. She has run. For good.

A cold yellow sunlight slanted into the room. The fireplace smoldered, giving the occasional crack. Flower petals lay on the sill beside the empty stand that had been adorned with her leather and polished steel armor. A silk button of blue lay on the floor.

The wardrobe door was ajar; there were indentations on the bed where she had lain her bags to fill them.

He sat down and surveyed the empty room spread before him and put his head in his hands.

“She could not wait for you.” Orophin said from the door “There was a messenger…she looked for you.”
“What?”

Haldir opened the wardrobe, her dresses were still there, as where the caskets that held her jewels, sitting on the shelf.

“Where were you?!” Orophin asked angrily.
“Gods,” Haldir wiped his hands over his face, “Where did she go?”
“Home,” Orophin snapped, “I know what Lord Erestor told you. She told me everything while she packed.”
“I doubt it was everything.”
“Enough then,” Orophin stood bristling, he had liked Phaila immensely; finding a kindred spirit who was as misunderstood as his beloved brother, “She needed you Haldir, she needed you and you were off being you!”

Haldir closed the wardrobe, ran his hand over the smooth wood.

“Why did she go home?”
“She did not say, only that it was necessary.”

Haldir nodded, it was necessary. He dropped to his knees beside the bed and drug out his own kits.

“Right,” Rúmil nodded, “and I suppose it’s up to me to tell them what it is you are up to.”
“Tell them I am taking some well deserved leave, it is quiet enough, and I do not hold the border alone.”
“She also asked me to mention that she would prefer you not come,” Orophin sat down before the fireplace, “to tell you she would come back as soon as it were feasible.”

Haldir balled up a tunic and threw it into the bag, his hands hung limply at his sides.
“What am I doing?” he whispered then looked at his brothers, “what is it I am doing? I do not even know her…”
“No you do not. Stay brother, do not follow her, she does not want you there,” Rúmil softened, put his arm around Hr’s r’s broad shoulder, “Stay.”

But he could not.