ELANOR'S REVENGE

Chapter Three

Elanor shut the door behind her, her breath coming in great gasps. Who could be here? Not Lana, surely! Nor Minden and Telrion! They would not . . . would they?

She walked quickly down the corridor, listening carefully, but heard nothing. What had he heard? She peeked in Lana’s room, then the smaller chamber that had been her own, then continued on down to the parlor and looked at the front door. The privacy latch was still in place. Of course, any elf could open it with a simple spell if they chose, but privacy latches were respected. No one but Lana would be likely to enter if the latch was closed.

Elanor went and peeked into the kitchen, and dining room, and the small back parlor. No one was there. What had Haldir heard? Could he have been mistaken?

No! A sudden shockwave ran through her as she realized she had been duped. The March Warden of Lothlórien would not be mistaken about such a thing! How stupid she was being, and how emotional! He would be laughing at her right now, trying to get free . . .

Spinning around, she raced back down the hall to the bedchamber where she had left him, and stood listening outside the door. There were no sounds.

Slowly, she began to relax. Nothing had happened, but she was even angrier because he had made her look like more of a fool than she already felt.

She opened the door . . . and for the second time that night, she nearly died.

He was not on the bed.

Across the room, the window shutters were open, the curtains billowing in the night breeze. The candle flickered madly.

She stepped cautiously inside, and took a step toward the bed. The ropes still hung from the bedposts, reminding her that it had all been real, that she had actually done it. She had truly had Haldir of Lórien on her bed . . . .

Before she could complete this thought, a large hand clamped over her mouth, and an arm like a steel band coiled around her waist, lifting her completely off the floor. Elanor gave a horrified, muffled cry of pure terror. He was free, blessed Elbereth, he was free!

“You did not truly think I would leave, did you?” The softly spoken words were silky and velvet-smooth, at odds with the tightness of his grip. “And now,” he continued, still very softly, “it is my turn to have a little fun. This game we play will continue, but according to my rules.”

Elanor’s senses returned in a rush. She began to struggle, using all her strength, kicking and wriggling and squirming, yet her struggles were futile; she was no match for his strength. She knew she was going to pay dearly for what she had done to him, and that he would enjoy it immensely was clear. He was still naked, and she heard quiet laughter as he held her against him, his hand still firmly clamped over her mouth.

Haldir carried her across the room, her feet kicking out, hitting nothing but air. She tried to bite him, but could not even get her mouth open wide enough to accomplish it. With scarcely a pause, he spun her around and threw her none-too-gently on the bed, quickly pinning her with his body as he thrust one of her hands through a loop hanging from the bedpost. With a single hand, he tightened this loop, grimacing as she grabbed a clump of his hair, but her free hand was immediately seized and thrust into a second loop. Bound by both wrists, she tried to twist from beneath him, but this was not possible. His left hand still covered her mouth.

He gazed down at her, his face impassive, and she stared back, trying to hide her fear. “I will remove my hand if you promise not to scream. I can silence you before you have time to draw a breath so you may as well agree.”

Elanor managed a small nod, her heart jerking. What else could she do?

“Good,” he said, and released her mouth.

The moment his hand was gone, she spat, “So now what will you—”

The hand returned.

“You will not speak unless it is to answer my questions,” he stated curtly.

Until this moment, he had actually been sitting on her, crushing her with his weight, but now he shifted, and shoved a knee between hers to force her legs apart. All that male flesh, the large, hard body hovering over hers, brought her heart almost into her throat. She could scarcely breath, and he seemed to know this, for she heard him give a low, nasty-sounding chuckle.

“I will not bind your ankles,” he said, “for it might prove awkward.” To her horror, he knelt between her legs, his hands on her thighs. At least she still wore her dress, but he had shoved it almost all the way up to her hips so that his hands were actually on her bare flesh. She tried not to look at his nakedness, though that was difficult.

“Now,” he added with cool authority, “I will have your name.”

Furious and frightened, Elanor clamped her lips together and glared.

Haldir leaned forward, his silver blond hair hanging down on either side of his face. “You seem not to understand that I am the one in control now, and I have no patience left. I will ask you once more, and I suggest you answer with one word: your name.”

Elanor swallowed, still not able to catch her breath, but now she could not blame it on the weight of his body. Those grey eyes held no warmth, no humor, and his expression was hard, completely lacking in compassion. Not that she expected compassion from him.

“Elanor,” she said at last.

“Elanor,” he repeated, his eyes unreadable. “Like the flower.”

It was not a question, so she said nothing.

“Now, I am going to ask you more questions, and you will tell me the truth. I warn you, I will know if you are lying.”

“What do you want to—” she got out, before his hand returned to her mouth.

“I ask the questions,” he reminded her, his voice cold and edged with steel. “Now, who is this Lana?” He removed his hand.

Elanor gritted her teeth. “She is my sister.”

He studied her for a moment. “Is she like you?”

This seemed an odd question. “No,” Elanor said shortly.

“Describe her to me.”

“Why? You know her—“

Haldir’s hand swept up to grip her chin. His eyes glittered dangerously. “Three times have you failed to obey me, Elanor.” He said her name oddly, stressing the second syllable instead of the first. “You also fail to understand that this is no jest. Obey me or suffer the consequences.” His hands took hold of the front of her dress and, without hesitation, he ripped it completely down the front. Elanor gasped in absolute shock. At least she wore a chemise beneath her gown; many ladies did not.

“Ah,” he said, his tone pensive, “you are one of the modest ones. I did not expect that.” His mouth curved into an unpleasant smile. “You look worried. You should be. Now, describe your sister to me.”

Elanor drew in a trembling breath. “She is very beautiful. Golden hair. Blue eyes. She spoke to you last night just before you went into the garden.”

His dark brows drew together. “So that is Lana.” He studied her closely. “I see no resemblance. You are not much alike.”

Elanor flushed. “I know I am not as pretty.” This time he did not cut her off.

“You are much prettier,” he corrected, “but that is a fact, not a compliment, so be warned. And you have spoken out of turn again.”

To her horror, he caught hold of the bodice of her chemise, and ripped it a small distance down the center. Watching her face, he ran a teasing finger from the base of her throat down to the bottom of the tear, which fell just between her breasts. His touch flooded her with sensation, sending an appalling and very warm wave searing into the pit of her stomach.

“What did your sister tell you?” he asked in a flat tone. “She must have quite an imagination. What wild tale did she spin, that you would feel so outraged against me?”

Elanor was becoming lightheaded from fluctuations in her breathing and from the flurry of feelings sweeping through her. She could hardly keep her mind focused, her body was reacting to his closeness, just as his had reacted so visibly to hers. She marveled that he could ignore his own response so completely when she was so aware of it. It did not seem to embarrass him in the least.

In a stifled voice, she said, “You know perfectly well that you and she met two years ago. You courted her. She fell in love and said you loved her back. But you were only toying with her heart. She is young and naïve and . . . and you should have known better!”

“Naïve? Like you?”

“I am not naïve!”

He laughed scornfully. “You are like a new hatchling, Elanor. Fresh from the nest.”

“I am not!” she countered furiously. “I am—”

“Slow to learn,” he said, and ripped her chemise all the way to her naval. “Once more you have spoken without permission. Do it again and I will strip you naked. Is that what you want me to do, little flower?”

Though he must have seen everything, he had replaced the fabric over her breasts, allowing her the remnants of her modesty. Even so, his hands slipped between the torn edges of the chemise, resting on her ribcage directly under her breasts. Unbearable, humiliating warmth washed through her as he stroked her flesh.

“No,” she answered, her voice cracking. Tears threatened to surface, but she held them back.

“Whose idea was it to bring me here and tie me to the bed?”

“Mine,” she whispered.

“Entirely?” he demanded. “Telrion and Minden did not put you up to it?”

“It was entirely my idea.”

“How did you persuade them to go along with this?” His thumbs caressed the inner curve of her breasts.

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the burning his touch was igniting throughout her body. “I . . . I blackmailed them.”

“Indeed,” he remarked, his tone dry. “Tell me how.”

Falteringly, she explained about the borrowed parchments and the stolen robes.

Haldir took this in without comment. “Last question. Why did you wish me to be naked?”

Her eyes flew open. “I did not! They were supposed to gag you, not—” She broke off as his gaze darkened like an angry thundercloud.

“Gag me,” he repeated in a ominous voice. He leaned over her, his hair sliding over his shoulder to hang beside his head, brushing her chest.

Elanor squeezed her eyes shut and heard him take a deep breath. Was it an effort to control his anger? She felt him grip her chin.

“Open your eyes, Elanor.”

It was a command she dared not refuse, her chemise was almost nonexistent now. She looked up at him. He leaned closer, his grey eyes smoldering, boring into hers. “I find your sense of justice unacceptable. You had no cause to bind me as you did. Your sister lies.”

“Nay, she would not!” she burst out. “It is you who lie!”

“You push me too far, little flower. I grow weary of your insults.” He raised himself up for a moment, and her eyes darted downward. He was still erect, even more than before, and she swallowed in amazement at the size of him. Had touching her really done that to him? For a brief moment, she actually felt a tiny surge of feminine triumph, but she shoved it aside with self-loathing.

“I see you have noticed the effect you have on me. Do not take it personally, it means nothing. It is only nature.” He stared down at her with an expression that made her quake inwardly. Very softly, he said, “You had your chance to touch me. Now, Elanor, I am going to return the favor.”

Her eyes widened, but before she could take in his meaning, he had moved to lie directly on top of her, his elbows on either side of her ribcage, his head lifted so that he could gaze mockingly down upon her. Never before had she done this, had a naked male lying on top of her; he had forced her legs apart and settled himself between them as though he had the right. She stared up at him, her heart pumping so hard she thought she would explode.

At first, when his head lowered, she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he dipped down and touched his tongue to a sensitive place on the curve of her neck. She gasped, an involuntary shudder running through her, which he must have felt for she heard him give a low laugh. She lay completely rigid, trembling while he explored her, working his mouth around the curve of her neck to the base of her throat and lower. Then he shifted his body downwards, and to her complete shock, pushed aside her torn chemise to bare one of her breasts.

“You touched me here,” he murmured, “so it is only fair I do the same to you.” Her eyes widened as his head came down and his lips closed over her nipple. Dimly, she heard herself give a small, soft whimper that was almost a moan, her back arching in involuntary response to a stimulation she had never experienced. Mortified tears formed in her eyes, but she kept them squeezed shut while she angled her head away. Still he tormented her a while longer, flicking her nipple with his tongue, then sucking it gently. At last he lifted his head, and she knew he was looking down at her. He said nothing. He just covered her breast again with the edge of her chemise.

Then his weight lifted away and there was only air.

At last she dared to open her eyes and saw that he had found his clothes, which had been shoved into a chair on the opposite side of the room. He glanced over at her as he laced up his leggings and pulled on his tunics. “I hope you had your dinner, my dear, for you will remain where you are for now. Perhaps your sister will come home soon and release you.”

“She will not be home until tomorrow!” Elanor cried. “You cannot leave me here, not like this!” She twisted, knowing that Haldir’s knots would not loosen, and likely would only be made tighter by her movement.

He sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots, then reached over and lowered the hem of her chemise just a trifle. “On the contrary, fair Elanor, I can leave you like this. You will be safe enough, and I have some elves to find. While you are waiting for someone to come and free you, you can reflect upon how unwise it is to cross swords with me.”

“You are detestable,” she said with a catch in her voice.

He only laughed. He was still angry, that much was obvious.

And then the door clicked shut, leaving her alone.

Haldir left Elanor’s house and strode rapidly along the Rivendell paths in the direction of his own rooms, still simmering with anger and other strong emotions. He was infuriated with his brothers, and with Minden and Telrion, but at this point his anger with Elanor had lessened. Yes, she deserved to be punished, but he had taken care of that, and what he had done would probably suffice. He had intended to do much more, to leave her on fire for him and then walk away, but he had changed his mind. The look on her face had convinced him that, unlike this lying sister of hers, Elanor was truly an innocent.

A misinformed, misguided innocent with courage and a streak of audacity he might have admired under other circumstances. To do what she had done had taken a lot of nerve. With the exception of his brothers, his own wardens would not have dared to do such a thing. Haldir’s discipline was strict and swift, and they all knew it. This little Rivendell maiden had dared to tread where others would not, certainly no one in Lórien!

But she was not rational, he thought irritably. She was foolish, obsessed with retribution for this silly young sister of hers whom he had barely glanced at, and who was clearly a deceitful schemer. He wished he could wring Lana’s neck.

As for Elanor, his response to her had not been quite as meaningless as he had allowed her to believe. His body had burned for her, but more than that, a part of him had longed to forgive her, to hold her, to kiss her and make passionate love to her. And so, while he had punished Elanor, he had also punished himself by walking away from the well when he was still thirsty.

Even now he still wanted her. To have come so close, to have had her on a bed and tasted the sweetness of her breast, and then to have seen such an agonized expression on her face! He cursed inwardly and with very great regret. Any chance of wooing her was permanently ruined, and the knowledge fueled his fury at his brothers. Their practical joke went beyond mere fun and amusement. They had gone too far this time, and they would pay.

Haldir strode rapidly up the stone steps and into the hallway of the ornate building that housed Elrond’s guests. The sun was just beginning to rise, and he had a strong feeling that he knew where he would find the elves he sought. He gripped the door latch of Rúmil’s room and threw open the door. Four faces turned to look at him, four pairs of bleary eyes widening with shock. Orophin groaned.

“Haldir!” Telrion rose and backed up as Haldir stalked into the room.

Rúmil also stood, his expression wary. “Why, hello, brother. We did not expect you back so soon.”

Haldir fixed his enraged gaze upon his sibling. “No?” he said acidly. “And when did you expect me?”

Minden sat closest to the door, and looked ready to make his escape. “We, um, were expecting you to take advantage of the loose knots for . . . at least a while longer.”

Rounding on him, Haldir grasped the Rivendell elf’s tunic and yanked him to his feet. “Oh? So that was your idea?”

Minden gulped. “We only did what she asked, Haldir. I knew nothing of her intentions beyond that. We only thought to give you an advantage she would not expect!”

Haldir increased the menace in his tone. “And I am to think that the maiden’s wishes included the removal of my clothing?” Minden struggled against the iron grip locked on his tunic, making choking sounds in his throat.

Rúmil surged forward and grabbed Haldir’s wrists. “Let him be, Haldir! That part was our idea, mine and Orophin’s! Do not blame Minden or Telrion. We only thought to make things more interesting for you. I, uh, gather it did not have the desired effect.”

Releasing Minden, who staggered back, Haldir’s wrathful gaze settled first on Orophin and then Rúmil. “You may assume that. And I tell you now that you have made a grave mistake, all of you.” He turned to Orophin, who sat with his head in his hands. “You look unwell, brother. Too much wine, perhaps? Be warned, however you feel now will be preferable to the punishment that awaits you in Lothlórien.”

Telrion was edging toward the door, but froze when Haldir spun around and pointed a finger at him. “And you, my friend, had better see to Elanor. I left her mired in her own trap so perhaps you might like to rescue her, that is, if you dare. I do not envy you that task. She is not in a pleasant mood.”

He saw Telrion’s eyes widen. Almost sputtering, the Rivendell elf said, “Do you mean you left her tied to the bed? How could you do such a cruel thing?”

“I did it quite easily,” Haldir said with coldness. “She is fortunate I am sending you now rather than tomorrow. However, it is you, not I, who owes her an apology. So are you going to release her or not?” His voice lashed out like a whip.

“I am going!” Giving Haldir a reproachful look, Telrion hurried from the room.

Haldir turned back to Minden. “As for you . . .”

Telrion did not wait to hear more; Minden would have to fend for himself. Running out of the building and down the road, he soon reached Elanor’s home. He paused, half expecting to hear her shrieking, but all was silent. Worried, he opened the door and headed straight down the hall for the bedchambers, dreading the moment to come. He loved Elanor like a brother, and for years had been wishing she could find an elf who would love her in the romantic sense. But clearly Lórien’s March Warden was not to be this elf!

Reaching the room which he knew to be Elanor’s, he quietly opened the door and peeked inside. Elanor lay on her bed, wearing a chemise and nothing else, but he could see it had been split quite a long way down the front. He scowled fiercely. What had happened here? She was staring at the ceiling, her wrists tied to the bedposts. Had she been crying? His tender heart touched, he slipped into the room to find her gaze settling on him.

“Telrion!” Her voice shook with an edge of hysteria. “How could you?”

“Elanor, what happened?” He reached the bed, trying to ignore the expanse of long feminine leg revealed by the chemise clumped around her upper thighs. Her dress lay beneath her, completely ripped open from neckline to hem.

Elanor looked ready to scream. “Happened? What do you think happened? You deliberately left the knots loose, so of course he got free! I can’t believe you and Minden did this to me! You left him naked on my bed, and made sure he would get loose! Oh, don’t bother to deny it. Do you think I am a fool? I can see the guilt written all over your face.”

Feeling terrible, Telrion struggled to undo the knots at her wrist. “We only thought to spice up your life, Elanor. I never expected Haldir to treat you like this.” He frowned, working at the knots that had no doubt tightened as she struggled to free herself. “He did not harm you, did he?”

“Harm me?” she repeated shrilly. “Of course he did not harm me. But he humiliated me, and for that I will never forgive him. It was supposed to be the other way around! But because of you and Minden and those stupid Lórien brothers, my plan was ruined! How could you betray me like that? What were you thinking? Hurry and untie me so I can strangle you!”

Telrion drew a knife from his boot. “I am sorry, Elanor. Truly sorry. I will cut you free. He should not have done this to you.”

She made a small sound that sounded like a sob. “I hate him.”

Lord Elrond rose from the cushioned chair behind his ornate carven desk, hearing the muted voice of the March Warden below his window in greeting to Arwen. She had just left his study, and he moved toward the door hoping to catch the Lórien elf before he had moved farther along the walkway near the river.

Stepping out into the bright light of midday, Elrond saw that the March Warden had paused and was leaning against the stone baluster of the railing, staring at the teaming falls below. He turned when Elrond stopped behind him, his expression guarded.

“Good afternoon, Haldir. I had hoped to find you here. In fact, I was just thinking of sending a messenger to summon you.”

Haldir bowed his head in greeting. “How may I be of service to you, my lord?”

Elrond smiled. “Nay, Haldir, the question should be how may I be of service to you?”

Haldir’s chin rose slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied Elrond.

Elrond motioned for Haldir to follow him back to his study. Upon entering, he walked to a small cabinet and removed a flask of wine. “This is my special blend,” he remarked in a casual tone. “I had to replace my flask this morning. It disappeared sometime last evening.” He glanced back at his guest. “I find Telrion has a special fondness for . . . borrowing it.”

The tilt of Haldir’s head changed slightly. “Indeed.”

Leading the way to two chairs, Elrond sat down and poured wine into two goblets, and held one out to Haldir. “Make yourself comfortable, March Warden. You and I have much to discuss.”

Accepting the drink, Haldir sat down in the chair opposite Elrond and sipped the wine. His expression remained bland, and Elrond chuckled.

“You hide your emotions well, Haldir. Yet I can almost imagine your thoughts at this moment.” He leaned forward. “Let me be frank. I know that Telrion and Minden were up to mischief last evening. That does not surprise me. What does surprise me is that Elanor was involved. I managed to get the whole disgraceful story out of Telrion this morning by threatening him with permanent expulsion from my library. He told me what they did to you.”

Haldir’s expression had hardened, but he made no comment, just took another sip of his wine. Elrond studied him closely, wondering if the glitter in the March Warden’s eyes came from anger or some other emotion. “I owe you a great apology for what my people have done,” he continued. “It is inexcusable.”

Haldir set his goblet on the edge of the desk and met Elrond’s gaze. “It was not wholly the fault of your people, my lord. My brothers had their share in the mischief. And they will pay for it when we return to Lothlórien.”

“I do not require further details of your experience, Haldir. But I must confide some part of my own inadvertent involvement in this escapade. I said that I did not expect something of this sort from Elanor. What I really meant is that her part in the joke went completely beyond what I expected, although I did anticipate that she would do something sooner or later.” With a deep sigh, Elrond rose, carrying the goblet of wine as he moved to sit on the edge of the desk near Haldir. “Let me explain.”

“For the past few years, Elanor has been like a daughter to me. Her parents left Rivendell for Mirkwood several years ago, leaving Elanor and her sister Lana in my care. Elanor is more than a century older than her sister, and Lana is well over two hundred, so I did not consider this a problem. I regret to say I was wrong, for I have come to know them better since their parents left. As the elder, Elanor has devoted her life to her sister, who I regret to say is spoiled and selfish. I have watched Elanor sacrifice much that might have given her happiness and joy for Lana’s benefit.”

He set down his goblet and walked over to one of his bookshelves, absently smoothing a hand over the leather bindings before he swung back to face Haldir. “I only say this so you might understand her motives, and my slight involvement. Elanor has long been a spectator to the many jokes and escapades of my elves, my sons included. Many times she has distracted me, or some other elf, so that the culprits could make their escape. She does not know that I am aware of this.”

Haldir leaned on his arm, one finger touching the corner of his mouth, his piercing eyes fastened on Elrond’s face. “And you allow this?”

“I have until now. To my knowledge, it is the only thing that she does for her own pleasure, save for gardening. Elanor is like a pretty moth, trapped inside a cocoon, waiting to break out and start living a real life. Her spirit longs to run free, but she has never let it. I’ve been watching her for some time now, waiting for her to let go. And she finally did it last evening, in a manner far more shocking than I anticipated. Unfortunately for you.”

Haldir smiled in such a way that made even Elrond feel uneasy. “So you permitted Telrion and Minden to steal your wine, knowing that they and Elanor had made plans. And you knew nothing of these plans, my lord?”

Many would not have dared to ask this question, but Lothlórien’s March Warden was bolder than most. Elrond chose not to take offense; Haldir was within his rights after what had been done to him. “If I had, I would have warned you,” Elrond pointed out dryly.

Haldir was silent, his face set in its characteristic mask of cold indifference.

“I would have you understand,” Elrond continued, “that it was her sister’s dishonesty that drove Elanor to do what she did. Her actions, while misguided and blameworthy, sprang from a heart that is fiercely loyal. Lana’s part in this will not go unpunished, I assure you. I am sending her to the strictest of taskmasters, her own mother. Lana will not be happy to find herself under that guiding hand once again. As for Elanor, I have thought of a more appropriate punishment. I have a proposal for you, March Warden.”

“And what is that, Lord Elrond?” Haldir asked evenly.

Elrond watched him closely. He had long admired the March Warden of Lothlórien, and now was the time to trust his instincts where this elf was concerned.

“There is an old custom of which you may or may not have heard. In ages past, when an elf has offended another such as Elanor has offended you, they were often required to serve the offended one for a year, or even longer, to atone for their misdeeds. I propose to send Elanor back with you to Lórien as your ward for a year and a day. She can both serve you and learn from you. If you agree.”

It amazed Elrond how Haldir still did not betray his thoughts, though his fingers moved to cover more of his mouth as he leaned against his hand. His hard eyes remained fixed on Elrond, studying him with that penetrating gaze for which he was so well known. “I have heard of this, though I do not believe anyone has required such a thing in this age.”

Elrond inclined his head. “Nay, it has been a long time. But as Elanor’s lord and foster parent, it is my right to require it of her if I wish. What are your thoughts?”

Haldir shifted in his chair, stretching out one long leg. “An interesting idea, my lord. And rather appealing, I admit.” Despite the words, Elrond could discern nothing from Haldir’s tone.

Elrond moved around his desk to sit down once more. “I owe you some kind of recompense for her actions, and besides, I think it would be beneficial to her to leave Rivendell and visit Lórien. And I think you would be good for her, for I have always found you to be reasonable and just.”

Haldir seemed to be considering the idea, mulling it over in his mind. Elrond waited, wondering if he was making a mistake. Haldir and Ellie? Was he imprudent in this matter? No, he did not think so. He had always trusted the guidance of the Valar, and they had never failed him before. Yet the look on Haldir’s face gave him pause.

Elrond added, “Elanor needs to be taught a lesson, Haldir, and I believe you can teach her that lesson, in your own honorable way. I know I can trust you to do that, can I not?”

Haldir’s eyes narrowed enough to tell Elrond he understood his meaning. Rather than answer the question, the March Warden commented, “I do not understand why you would choose servitude for her if you wish her spirit to be freed. She has already been punished for her action. I took care of that.”

“Indeed?” Elrond’s eyebrows lifted, but it was obvious Haldir was not going to elaborate. “My reasons, March Warden, are my own. Suffice it to say that I think it would be best. It is a type of servitude, this is true, but it would also be a learning experience.”

Haldir sat silent for a number of seconds as if considering this, then gave a short nod. “Then let it be as you wish. I accept your offer, my lord. I will take Elanor as my ward for a year and a day.”

Finally, with these last words, Elrond heard the underlying satisfaction in the March Warden’s tone. Once more he hoped he was not making a mistake. Pushing his misgivings away, Elrond rose and went to the door, and spoke to another elf outside. Then he returned and paced in front of Haldir, his hands folded behind his back. “Would you like to remain while I give the news to Elanor?”

Haldir smiled a rather strange smile. “I would indeed.”

Elanor gripped the frame of her front door, closing her eyes as she anticipated what was to come. Summoned to Lord Elrond! It could not be a coincidence; he must have heard what happened last night. She dreaded knowing what he would say, for in truth she respected Elrond more than anyone else in Rivendell. And although she believed he had affection for her and Lana, she did not know what he would do when he was angry.

She ran a shaking hand through her hair as she closed her door and walked slowly along the path toward Elrond’s palace. Had Haldir complained to him? Or had Elrond somehow found out from one of the others? She could not lie about it, that much was certain. Not to Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, the wisest and fairest of all elves, at least in her opinion.

When she finally reached the door to Elrond’s study, she paused, listening intently, but heard nothing. Feeling very nervous, she knocked lightly on the ornate door and heard Lord Elrond’s deep voice command her to enter. With a deep breath, she stepped into the room and saw the Rivendell lord standing across the room before one of the many bookshelves lining the walls. His eyes fixed sternly on her as she paused, a slight frown creasing his elegant brow. Her heart sank like a stone in the Anduin. Oh, yes, he knew.

“Good day, Elanor,” he said levelly. “Come in, do not hesitate.”

Elanor took a small step into the room, her hands clenched at her sides. “Good day, my lord,” she murmured, and touched her brow in a gesture of respect. She gave him a wavering smile that won no answering response.

“I had an interesting conversation with Telrion this morning.” Elrond’s gaze stayed steady on her face as he walked slowly toward her, his hands clasped behind his back. His long eyebrows arched when she said nothing. “I know what you did last night, Ellie, and to say that I am disappointed in you would be to understate the matter.”

A hot flush of embarrassment rose in her cheeks. “My lord, I only meant to punish Haldir for his careless and cruel behavior toward my sister. Please believe me that I did not tell them to remove his clothes!” She saw the surprise leap into Lord Elrond’s face, and realized too late that this was new information to him. Then she gasped and almost fainted when Haldir spoke from behind her.

“It appears that Lord Elrond did not know that precise detail until this moment.” He sounded both annoyed and mildly amused, though which was stronger she could not tell. “I do not thank you for telling him.”

Elanor whirled to face him. “What are you doing here?”

The open door had blocked her view of him, which he had no doubt intended when he chose his position. He was leaning casually against a bookcase, an open book in his hand, his tall, muscular body seeming very relaxed considering the situation.

Haldir closed the book and replaced it carefully on the shelf, then reached out and shut the door. “I was invited,” he said, his voice too smooth for comfort.

“Elanor,” Lord Elrond inserted, “I do not like to hear you speak in such an impolite way to my guest. Where are your manners?”

Elanor stared at Haldir for a moment, unnerved by the unflinching way he returned her look. Then she turned to Lord Elrond, almost stuttering in her agitation. “My lord, about what happened, please allow me to explain.”

Elrond shook his head. “I need no explanation, Elanor. And I do not care to hear any more of the . . . intimate details. What passed between you and Haldir should remain between the two of you. But this I do know—he has been dealt a great wrong. In mistreating him as you have done, you have not only damaged your own honor, but mine as well because it happened here, in Rivendell, where I am lord. I now realize that I have been too lenient with you.”

Elanor stiffened, wondering at his meaning. “My lord, I was greatly distressed on Lana’s account! She was hurt—”

“Lana was not hurt,” Elrond cut in sharply. “She lied to you. She lied as she has done countless times before, to you and to others, including your parents.” He lifted his hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “Do not argue, Elanor. I know this is hard for you to hear. We do not like to see the faults of our loved ones. But did you ever think to verify her claim? Did you ever see the March Warden do anything that confirmed her story? Nay, and that grieves me. It tells me you are far too hasty and impetuous and gullible. It also tell me you are in need of guidance by a firm and steady hand.”

Shocked to the core, Elanor opened and shut her mouth. Lana had lied? All those tears, all the emotions, the stories . . . for two years? Was this possible? If so, she felt like the biggest fool that had ever lived. Anguish rose in her throat, and she blinked several times for fear that tears would erupt. From the corner of her eye, she saw that Haldir had moved to where he could see her better, his arms folded over his broad chest, his expression unsympathetic and aloof. She knew he must be secretly enjoying this, and it mortified her to know that he was witnessing her shame.

Perhaps because he was here, she felt compelled to be defiant. “I meant him no harm, my lord,” she insisted, her chin lifted. “Haldir simply has no sense of humor.”

Haldir’s snort made Elrond glance his way. “I think you are lucky he does have a sense of humor, Elanor. As for me, I do not find it humorous in the least. In fact, I have a penance for you to perform.”

Elanor tensed. A penance? “I do not know what I can do,” she said carefully, “other than to say that if I was mistaken, then I am sorry for what I did.” She knew she did not sound in the least sorry, but that was the best she could do right now until she had time to talk to Lana and come to terms with what had happened. What if Lord Elrond was mistaken? What if Haldir had duped Elrond into believing a lie?

As if reading her mind, Elrond spoke again. “You must accept what I have told you as the truth. Lana fabricated the whole story of a romance with Haldir. She is being sent to Mirkwood to be reunited with your parents. That is her punishment. As for yours . . . ” He paused, and glanced again at the March Warden.

Haldir’s tiny smile made her blood run cold. What had they discussed? Frantically, she looked back at Elrond. “What, my lord?”

“I have given some thought to the situation, Elanor, and I have made my decision.”

Elanor shivered. She had always found Elrond to be kind, but at this precise moment he seemed pitiless. “What must I do?” she asked in trepidation.

“I am sending you to Lothlórien with Haldir. For a year and a day, you will serve him and learn from him as his ward. You will be subject to his guidance and his commands. When the time is up, you may return here to Rivendell, if that is your wish.”

Elanor had stopped breathing. She stared at Elrond, reeling with shock, unable to believe her ears. “You are . . . joking?” she asked him in a small voice.

“No, Ellie, I am not. It will be a good experience for you. You must trust me on this.” Hazily, she recognized the thread of gentleness in Elrond’s voice, but she could not understand. A good experience? To be put into Haldir’s power?

She shook her head. “No, my lord. I cannot agree to this.” She dared not look at Haldir.

“Why not?” Elrond replied, his gaze direct. “Give me a sound reason and I will reconsider.”

Elanor moistened her lips. “Because . . . we do not like each other.”

“That is not a sound reason.”

“And,” she added quickly, “because I fear him.”

“You fear him? What has he done that you should fear him?” Elrond’s voice was demanding, his eyes searing her with their intensity.

“Yes,” Haldir added, “why do you fear me? Did I harm you in some way?”

She darted a glance at him, then looked back at Elrond. Lying was not something that came easily to her. “I fear him because . . . ” Words failed her. She looked back at Haldir. “Is this your idea?” she asked wrathfully.

He straightened and walked closer to her, his movements as graceful as a cat. “Nay, it was not, but I find I like the idea better with each passing moment.” His gaze seemed mocking.

Elanor glared at him, then turned back to Elrond. “My lord, I am sure I can make it up to Haldir in some other way. Surely this is not necessary.”

“Nay, I have made my decision, Elanor. What you did was deplorable.” He paused for a moment and she could see a flash of sympathy in Elrond’s eyes. “You will do as I say. I give you no choice in the matter.”

“Lord Elrond, please,” she said miserably. “I have never done anything like this before. You must take that into account.”

“You have done many things of which you think I am unaware, Elanor. Too many times you have been what I would call a silent accomplice to mischief and bedevilment. Do not argue with me,” he countered, lifting his hand, “and do not think of this so much as a punishment as an opportunity to learn. You will bear this in a manner worthy of you. You will leave when Haldir leaves, which I believe is tomorrow. So I suggest you go and prepare yourself.”

Hearing the finality in his tone, Elanor’s throat constricted. She nodded quickly, and turned to leave. Haldir’s low voice stopped her at the door.

“You will not need much,” he said.

Elrond found it interesting to watch the way Haldir’s eyes followed Elanor as she left the room. So that was the way the wind blew, was it? Contrary to the public face he was putting on, Lórien’s March Warden was not indifferent to little Ellie, and this reassured Elrond a good deal. Haldir had often struck the Rivendell lord as an elf who kept himself too closed off from emotion, so perhaps they would be good for each other. Elrond was aware that the ladies found Haldir an intriguing challenge, and that Haldir often availed himself of their company. But that was no more than passion of a physical nature, and with ladies who understood the rules of the game.

It was obvious that Elanor stood in no danger of being mistreated by Haldir. If what Elrond suspected was true, Haldir had teased her a little, which could well be the first time Elanor had received such concentrated and focused male attention. The Lord of Rivendell smiled slightly at the thought and returned his attention to Haldir.

“If you would like to follow and speak with her, go right ahead,” he suggested.

The Lórien elf glanced at him, his icy mask firmly in place. “I hardly think she is in a frame of mind to talk to me, my lord. Right now she loathes the sight of me.” Ah yes, now that Elrond’s ear was attuned, he could hear the faint hint of ruefulness in Haldir’s voice. It was subtle, but it was there.

Elrond shrugged and turned away to hide his smile. “You must do as you see fit,” he said, keeping his tone uninterested. “Good day, Haldir.”

He noticed Haldir left the room rather swiftly.

[To be continued . . .] Feedback greatly appreciated!!