Lady of Battle

Lady of Battle

~*~*~*~*~ Use the Back Door?
by Cheiron

Rating: NC17

~*~*~*~*~

Legal disclaimer:
Characters, places, events from JRR Tolkien's Lord of the Rings and Silmarillion used without permission, no attempt has been made, nor will be made, to copyright these characters and no profit is being made from this work. All other non-Tolkien characters are of my own invention.

Feedback appreciated :)... Enjoy!


Chapter 19

Stepping carefully through the forest, Brenauth closely scanned the ground as she searched for any clues in the area. She had started near the scene of the murder, slowly made her way toward the direction Haldir had found the fragments and beyond, deeper into the forest. A sound of twigs snapping interrupted her as she turned to see the Prince coming her way. She greeted him by lowering her head slightly.

“Prince,” she acknowledged him, noticing his usual smile was gone. Still marching in her direction, it was apparent he came with purpose, his face stern, his emerald eyes burning back at her as he closed the distance between them,

“Lady Brenauth…,” his voice calm, yet commanding, “…a word?”

“Of course,” she stood tall and with patient eyes she prepared herself, for she could see that the Greenwood prince was quite determined and out of sorts.

Thranduil stopped only inches and came to stand face to face with the Lady Seneschal. His stare burned, hypnotizing her; so intense she could only surrender and stare back, almost as frightened prey would meet a predator.

“I realize that my words may anger you but they must be said…,” he continued without hesitation, “…it must be known between us that I do not desire your involvement with the kinslaying of my elven brother. Furthermore, due to the obvious target you have become, it is apparent that this fiend has a personal vendetta concerning you. I ask that you withdrawal, not only from this horrid scene…,” Thranduil expanded his arms to illustrate their surroundings, “but that you keep your own duties restricted to Caras Galadhon, never the borders.”

Brenauth was completely taken back. Never in her life had she been coddled nor protected in such a manner. She allowed her body to relax, took a step back and began to giggle, for she could not help herself. This endearment was simply too much to take.

Without warning, Thranduil stepped forward and took hold of her upper arm forcefully, raising her slightly so as he could look closer into her silver eyes.

“Lady, I do not jest! I sense your life in the balance! You must heed my advice and protect yourself at all cost!”

Brenauth’s shock was only overpowered by her fury as she smoothly reached down and partially unsheathed her sword,

“I must protest, Prince…,” her eyes burned with a calm fury the Prince had never witnessed before, “…you, of all, must know what I am capable of. Your father’s eyes have been witness to it.”

Before Thranduil could retort, the March Warden appeared only steps behind the prince and his whispered words reached the prince’s ears.

“You dare…” Haldir did not need to finish his thoughts for Thranduil had released the Lady, stepped back and allowed his body to slump, his head looking to the ground in contemplation. His eyes moved fervently over the forest floor, it was clear his mind rambled through many thoughts. Brenauth stood frozen to her spot.

“Forgive me…” Thranduil’s pleading eyes were full of regret as they looked on Brenauth, “my thoughts were in the right place.” Completely ignoring the March Warden he walked briskly toward the city.

Haldir made to follow but was halted when Brenauth silently stayed him with her hand. The two remained wordless for several minutes. Brenauth had not realized that the prince had such carnal strength in him; always so charming, always so polite. It was slowly becoming apparent to Brenauth that the prince had two distinct and very different sides to him. This concerned her for it made him unpredictable; but was he much different than her?

She turned her attention to the March Warden, realizing the bold fury shown in his usually numb face.

‘Well, at least he is showing some sort of expression,’ she chuckled to herself.

“Forget… Haldir,” she walked to him and stopped just in front of him, “the whole realm is out of sorts with recent events.”

Unbeknownst to her, it was not her words but her intoxicating closeness that eased him. Haldir’s feelings gave him no choice but to obey her, and glad to do so. Haldir knew he would do anything the Lady asked of him. The feelings he bore for her were making him dangerous and he knew it. Nonetheless, he could change nothing. His path was set.

As he looked at her beautiful face, he knew that he was falling for her. His heart was hers to do with as she pleased. It was at this moment, it occurred to him that his heart was destined to break, for he doubted his love would be returned and knew well she was to be someone else’s; the olden elven laws, alone, would keep them apart.

“Have you found nothing?” Brenauth had moved on as if nothing had happened.

With a slight shake of the head, Haldir snapped back to her attention,

“Nothing, Lady…,” he cut himself off when he noticed the reproving look crossing Brenauth’s face, “Excuse me…” Haldir lowered his head as if to ask for forgiveness when he noticed the Lady Seneschal’s expression, “Brenauth … I mean - we have found nothing.”

A subtle, warm smile crossed her lips as Brenauth turned away to contemplate their next actions. She could see that the breaking of formalities with Haldir was causing a slight torment for the stone-mannered March Warden. It didn’t take much to see that formality had been his blanket for a long while; something she knew all too well. Brenauth’s smile became larger still as she realized just how much pleasure she was getting from yanking that blanket off.

‘Yes,’ she thought, ‘I have become very fond of Haldir’; she had been feeling extremely comfortable with him. In the past weeks, they had worked together side by side, but he had always maintained a professional distance – something she admired and understood quite well. But given recent changes, her hunger to feel again and perhaps, just a bit of nosiness, she desired to know the March Warden better. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her, and without further consideration, she spoke the question aloud,

“Haldir…,” he stopped and turned to her, her back remaining to him as she continued to look over the ground, “…would you accompany me to a private dinner this eve?”

Spoken aloud, the question had stunned Brenauth almost as much as it had the March Warden, who felt an electric jolt inside, and answered briskly, hoping the quick retort would hide his surprise, “Of course… Brenauth…” he bent slightly, “T’would be an honor.” He had wanted to say ‘no’, but hadn’t been able to think of any excuse. The thought of an evening alone with the Lady made him most nervous.

Brenauth paused, staring at the ground, recovering from the shock of her own boldness; once collected, she stood and turned to face Haldir. She had to recover from such a bold invitation and quickly – she had just invited this elf to a private dinner in her quarters.

‘Well… Rhokrist will be pleased,’ she thought.

“Good,” she started to the city, “…we should get better acquainted.” With a grin, he began to follow, still stunned, and filled with merry disbelief – a grin he had failed to hide from the Lady. She snickered quietly as she walked, glad to know she was not the only one feeling a bit awkward; this comforted her. She was looking forward to spending time with a new friend.

~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~


Brenauth spotted Erestor sitting under a large mallorn tree, intensely focused on his writing, his contentment shown on his face. She knew how he loved to write. What she had forgotten was how beautiful the people of her realm were. It was rare, that she saw Erestor and his splendor always managed to strike her at first. She was aware that she shared many of the same traits, but seeing them when looking upon another wasn’t the same as seeing them in a mirror. A mirror could only reflect the form of an elf, not the aura.

When she had been young, Brenauth’s father had made it a habit to tell his eldest daughter that her aura glowed stronger than any elf in Gondolin, but seeing Erestor as he was now, she found it hard to believe any elf could have a more radiant appearance. Not wanting to disturb him, she turned to leave when she heard his voice,

“You just missed your young friend… Rhokrist,” he looked up and greeted Brenauth with a bright smile. “We had a long conversation. She is quite the character, is she not,” his glance was mischievous, his brows raised and his eyes full of glee, “she has much fire in her”.

Settling next to Erestor, Brenauth chuckled, “Yes, enough for the three of us… much fervor for this life,” Brenauth’s thoughts turned semi-serious, “I admire her passion. She truly lives to… to…,” she struggled for the word, “…to LIVE!” The two elves broke into fits of laughter.

“I agree,” laughed Erestor.

“… And she likes you,” Brenauth waited to see his reaction to this – she expected surprise, but was disappointed,

“Yes, she does,” Erestor had spoken the words with ease.

Brenauth, ever curious, spoke, “How?” She wondered about his abilities. Had he kept secrets about his?

“Oh… ‘Salda. Your mind gets away from you, one does not need your sight to see,” he adjusted to lean on his elbow, “…not all of us chose to close away from these things. Experience told me – that, along with her giggly mannerisms,” he smiled brightly.

“She has giggly mannerisms?” This did not sound like her proud, confident friend. “She must really like you…”

“She does.” Again, Erestor replied with complete simplicity. He glared at Brenauth, almost as if he was daring her to say any more, but she could not help it.

“And… you?” She continued, leaning forward as a child waiting for a good story.

“She is very beautiful, especially within…,” He looked out over the forest as he spoke, “…such enthusiasm for life. She knows what she wants,” he turned to face Brenauth, “…and so do I.”

Brenauth looked into his eyes for those moments, and seeing pure tenacity there, turned from his stare with a chuckle, as did he; they told her that this conversation would go no further for him. Brenauth hadn’t realized her friend was so strong and determined. What she had just seen in his eyes was the very thing, probably the only thing that would ever tame Rhokrist.

“Well… with that, I am off. I have a dinner meeting,” she stood and gathered her belongings.

“Oh? With the Lord and Lady?” he asked as he looked over his parchments.

“No… no, with the March Warden,” she answered.

“The March Warden?... The tall, quiet one?... Just the two of you?” his smile became larger, as he slowly looked up to focus on her.

“Yes… yes… and yes.” She replied haughtily, nodding her head.

“That’s not a dinner meeting… that’s an engagement.” He replied slyly, snickering, “And you better remain cautious… those quiet ones…,” his brows raised, “and the suitor’s letter… best to let him in the back door… hmmm? …Maybe?”

He burst into laughter at seeing the look on her face; pure disgust. She quickly left him to his fit on the forest floor. “Ah… come ‘Salda… just a joke,” his laughter echoed behind her as she headed toward the city.

‘Only moments in her company and already acting as ‘Rho,’ she thought.

~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~

Brenauth paced restlessly around the room; her movements, lacking their usual grace, reflected the agitation she felt within. Turning to cross the room again, her foot caught one of the cushions on the floor and sent it tumbling into the others scattering them across the entrance to the veranda. Stifling a scream of frustration, Brenauth stopped and tried to will herself into a state of calm. Since she had returned to her quarters her emotions had become chaotic; a state which made Brenauth irritable and angry. At first she attributed her feelings to Erestor’s comment.

“Let him in the backdoor… Hphm!” Brenauth snorted. “You would know about backdoors wouldn’t you?!”

The venom behind her own words brought her up short. Brenauth knew her thoughts were unfair, unkind, and petty. Her realization added guilt into the mix of her emotions. Brenauth had not lost control like this since she was a child. From the depths of her mind she could hear her father’s voice.

“Salda,” her father’s tone was patient yet reproachful, “you mustn’t let your feelings get the better of you. What have I taught you to do when you feel the tempest inside?”

“Think my way through my feelings. Be like the wolf that follows the scent to the source; I must follow the path of my feelings back to the beginning and find what causes them.” Brenauth whispered the reply to her memory with a small sad smile. “Thank you father.” Taking a deep breath she began, starting with Erestor’s words.

“No,” Brenauth had told herself, “that’s not it, I’ve had sharper and cruder comments from Rhokrist. It must be something else.”

She began straightening up her quarters, making all ready for this evening. When Brenauth sent for food for her guest and herself, she became painfully aware she had never spent an evening entertaining and credited this as the source of her apprehension. She picked up a cushion, absently fluffed it for the sixth time, and imagined what the evening would be like in attempt to soothe her trepidation. Food and conversation, much like any of the thousands of formal dinners she had attended; only this time with none of the ritual or formality. Brenauth would be enjoying a meal and a new friendship; something which, now that she thought about it, made her smile with anticipation. No, her nervousness was not due to this evening’s plans. Brenauth looked deeper within her feelings, absentmindedly hugging the pillow as her eyes drifted to the branches of the trees outside, swaying gently in the evening breeze.

Brenauth carefully sorted through her emotions, examining each one and setting into place as her father had taught her. She recalled the events of the day, the accompanying feelings and eliminated them one by one until a lone, vague sensation remained. A cold chill crept along her spine as she realized what had been bothering her. Brenauth sensed a presence among the trees, a presence that was watching her and had watched her before. She stepped outside and stood at the top of the stairs, the wind slightly lifting the tresses of her gown, gazing out into the trees trying to find the hidden observer.

A voice below jerked Brenauth out of her bewilderment.

"Le vae, hirilen?” (Are you well, my lady?) Haldir spoke as he climbed towards her. A rare but warm smile spread across his handsome face. Brenauth returned with a smile of her own; one that, for the March Warden, outshone the setting sun. She was truly happy to see him.

“Haldir…” she couldn’t prevent the sign of relief that escaped her lips.

His cloak flickered in the wind, as he slowly climbed the stairs, onto the platform, Haldir spoke, “Did I startle you?”

“No…no…,” Brenauth dismissed the scare with a wave of her hand, stepped aside, and motioned for Haldir to enter, “Welcome… please.” She watched as he slowly lowered his head in thanks and entered her veranda door.

‘Huh… he DID come in through the back door,’ she could barely contain her laughter as she cleared her throat and followed the March Warden inside.

…. The breeze, stronger now, blew the long sheer drapes to the veranda open and closed, revealing the two elves inside. The fire had reduced to embers, as Brenauth and Haldir lay across the cushions in front of the mantel. Their laughter echoed through the quarters, Brenauth leaning to refill her cup with Greenwood wine. She sat the wine bottle back down, next to the other two empty bottles, and leaned back into the cushions to listen to Haldir’s story.

She had never seen him talk so much. Of course she attributed this to the wine, but that did not matter. He was quite charming like this; bright, open, his enthusiasm was intoxicating. He leaned forward with excitement as he continued the stories of the many bloopers of his brothers. Although she laughed heartily with him, a small sadness swelled inside her. She did not have such stories to tell of her siblings. Times were so serious then, and she was never to reach her majority with her siblings and encounter the many adventures that young adults experience together. Only Ecthelion had reached his majority while her family was still together.

Haldir’s voice continued and she watched on with a smile, but she was not listening to his words, only trying to let his happy mood provide comfort, as the memories filled her. She thought back on that terrible day, those last moments before it began and how she had spent them.

‘What a waste it was,’ she thought.

Those moments wasted on childish notions of love, instead of rejoicing the pride of a union with her family. She was to be wed the following summer, though she did not know him. It had been her people’s custom for the male to remain unknown till one moon before the union. Remembering, she recalled her father’s words,

‘His father does you great honor in asking for you to join with his heir. Do not shame us with refusal… Do not be a fool, ‘Salda!’

‘If only I could… Father, I would make you proud,’ she truly hoped he knew this.

She closed her eyes for just a moment and could picture her mother in the kitchen that afternoon, how hard at work she had been, the pride she must have felt for her eldest daughter. The servants hurried in all directions as her mother called out instructions. It was to be a large feast that night, the largest Brenauth had ever seen.

Her eyes still closed, she could see her little brother, Galumed, running through the kitchen, tormenting their mother and grabbing bits of food from the tables. At this, her smiled grew larger. In her mind, she walked on through their house to the sitting area where her younger sister sat, stitching Melisalda’s dress for that evening. She held it up with pride; it was fitting for the eldest daughter of the house, fitting for a bride to be. Melisalda took it.

Brenauth could now see herself in the reflection of the mirror, the long gown now on. She barely recognized the elf she saw in the mirror; so innocent, so young… so foolish! She spent those last moments pining. Refusing her father’s wishes! Wasting precious time on a passing feeling – childish love! Thinking back, it had been no more than an emotional fit based on a few stolen moments of impressionable words by the river.

She brought the cup to her lips and gulped heavily, allowing the wine to clear her throat. She emptied her mind, as much as possible, and brought herself back to the here and now.

‘This Greenwood wine certainly makes your mind ramble,’ she adjusted and tried to focus once again on her guest.

Haldir noticed her flinching eyes and paused, “Are you well, Brenauth?”

A faint, echoed, ‘Uh huh’ sounded from within the cup she had risen to her lips.

He snickered and took another drink as well, “I like this wine.”

“Yes… it is good,” she had painted the words with a lustrous tone. They paused and began to laugh together.

“Agreed,” Haldir leaned to refill his cup, “though it does take some getting used to.”

“Yeah,” the wine had completely removed any formality within Brenauth, “… took me many nights and many Greenwood rituals to build any tolerance.” She relaxed back into the cushions, contented. Then, it hit her; had she said that aloud?

She slowly leaned back up and met Haldir’s eyes, which had frozen on her face, almost as if waiting for an explanation. The shock and disbelief coursed through him,

‘Rituals… Merrymaking? Could she mean this?’ Haldir tried to think of it; picture it - The Lady Brenauth taking part in Merrymaking? Could it really be? And how could he not have seen her?

He released his stare and buried his stunned countenance into his cup, trying to think clearly, the wine limiting his thoughts,

‘The Greenwood elves are many and they do have several circles within the forest at times,’ he couldn’t picture it. Not this lady.

He subtly glanced around his cup to see her staring at the floor. She looked completely exposed, helpless. Embarrassment covered her face as the redness filled her cheeks. This reaction alone answered his questions. After moments of struggle, she had failed to think of anything to say to elude this awkward moment.

‘It is true,’ Haldir thought struggling to hide his own reaction as he watched Brenauth sink back in a surrendering manner.

Sipping their wine, they shared the uncomfortable silence. Haldir’s thoughts randomly worked as his mind began to build visualizations. He tried to stop, telling himself that the wine had taken his usual control away, but it continued to paint vivid pictures of Brenauth in a submissive state, her exposed body, her soft skin, her smell, and her eyes – the silver eyes that haunted his dreams every night.

Brenauth, now lying on her back, stared at the ceiling, completely oblivious to the struggle taking place within Haldir. He could feel all the muscles in his body tense as he began to feel his struggle turn into frustration, then anger. Suddenly, his mind had shown him the image of a strange, random male clutching to the Lady Brenauth. The stranger held her body to his, kissed her neck and chest passionately, cupping her breasts and gasping in the pleasure of it. Haldir was sick with jealousy and suddenly stiffened visibly; she had not noticed. The jealousy fed his temper and the bold March Warden emerged,

“Merrymaking,” his face was set as if porcelain; numb.

Still lying on her back, Brenauth’s head arose from the cushions to peak at the March Warden.

“No hiding it now,” she sat up and filled her cup again, “Yes.” She stared at him, much as Erestor had at her that day. She was learning good tricks from old friends.

Haldir sat his cup down and tried to think clearly. He too, had participated in these rituals. What right did he have to judge. He knew this to be true; nevertheless, he could not help but feel a mock type of betrayal at this revelation. The Lady had always been so pure, so angelic in his eyes. To think that the lady would take part in such acts, truly affected him; it both saddened and aroused him at the same time.

“You know of it too?... have you gone?” Brenauth’s question had been unexpected and it shocked the March Warden for when he snapped to look at her, her expression had turned from discomfited to carefree.

Completely surprised, he turned his head to one side and the amusement could not be contained. Her question had been quite audacious and he was convinced she had meant it to be. He had to give her credit. All in all, it had been a miraculous save on her part.

Without warning, he laughed heartily from his gut. It startled her so that she immediately joined in. He picked up his cup and lay back again,

“You’re good… really good,” he pointed at her as his last bellow escaped and he brought the cup to his lips again. She had never heard him laugh like that and it made her happy. Strong laughter was so contagious for her and to have such a strong, disciplined warrior share that honest laughter moved her beyond words; this, and the fact that she now knew she was not the only highly ranked elf in Caras Galadhon to engage in carnal appetites.

“I think we have had too much of this wine,” Brenauth said as she held up the bottle and looked through the glass to see only a small amount swirling in the bottom. Haldir suddenly saw this new information as relief in a strange way. She was not the chaste elf he had believed her to be. Although, what he had done was in no way acceptable, he no longer felt that he had stolen anything from her. Random partners at Merrymaking, a random partner on the battlefield – what was the difference?

‘Perhaps, in the future, there is forgiveness for me yet,’ he had not felt this at ease in a year.

“Well, my Lady,” he turned quickly and gave a mocked bow to which they both began to giggle hysterically, Brenauth’s eyes squinting shut as she held her stomach in silent wobbles, “I must go before this wine prevents me from finding my quarters.”

Brenauth stood and walked him to the veranda. She hated to see him go. She had felt pleased to have his company this evening and hated for it to end. She knew that a good friendship was being formed and didn’t feel that she could ever get enough of good company such as the March Warden’s.

As they walked out and onto the veranda she found herself dreading his absence; these feelings took her by surprise. Little did she know, the March Warden had felt the same for months.

They walked to the edge and settled side by side, while looking out into the forest. After so much wine and laughter, the strong breeze felt good on their flushed faces. They shared the silence, once again, as they just enjoyed the brilliant stars shining over their realm. It was mutual pride and complete comfort that was shared in the moment.

Brenauth did not know how long they had stood their when she suddenly felt the need to speak, “We must catch this fiend who taints our beloved realm so,” her tone had changed to the serious Seneschal Haldir knew well. He turned to face her, placed his hands on her shoulders, and turned her to face him,

“Brenauth, do not think of these things this night. Let us go back to that in the morn. We deserve that much at least for our plight,” his bright blue eyes sparkled with kindness as he spoke the gentle words of comfort. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on her cheek, holding it for several seconds, allowing her to do the same, as she grasp his elbows with her hands.

He pulled away and what she saw in his eyes were blue pools of serenity, comfort, and a devoted friend. He allowed these feelings to pass to her, soothing her.

“Our Lord and Lady could not have chosen better, my Lord,” she clutched tighter to his arms as she said this.

A large and appraising smile now covered his face as he spoke,

“Yes, Brenauth… they certainly did.”

He released her and stepped back, never taking his eyes from hers. And it was at this moment that she allowed her mind to see love in his eyes, but she quickly placed it as the love of friendship and returned the gesture.

Haldir bowed slightly, turned, and started his retreat down to the surface. He strolled at a comfortable pace, through the paths, toward his quarters. There was lightness in his step as he walked and he knew it was due to happiness for the evening’s events.

‘The evening could not have been better,’ he replayed the image of Brenauth smiling in his mind. Her bright smiles, the beautiful sound she made when she laughed. The image of her standing on the veranda, holding his arms, was something he would savor forever.

Haldir stumbled, his steps faltering; he had felt it almost as a physical blow – a sudden, strong blast of jealousy and hatred. He spun about expecting to face his attacker but only the trees stood before him. The Warden’s instincts took over in response to this unexpected attack. Dropping into a fighting stance, Haldir searched the surrounding area with all of his trained senses. He could find nothing at first; feel nothing but the aftershocks of the emotional assault - then a glimpse of motion far in the distance, a flicker of shadow, the briefest impression of an elf running. Haldir shook his head to clear his mind. He told himself he was mistaken even though he knew in his heart what he had seen: an elf with dark, nearly black hair.

TBC