Chapter Six

***

Haldir leaned up against the tree he was standing in and looked indifferently out into the world beyond.

It had been a week since Corwyn had come on the watch with him, and since then he had discovered that despite his feelings at the time, he rather liked having someone about to talk to.

Oh come off it, Haldir! The little voice inside yelled, full of conviction.

Well, okay, fine. If you got right down to it, Haldir admitted, he rather liked having Corwyn around to talk to. There, are you happy?

Quite. The little voice replied curtly.

The only problem was, he was never going to admit that to anyone, especially not Corwyn herself. He had no idea how to even tell a maiden something like that, much less one that might hate you.

He didn’t know how Orophin did it. These love matters were much too confusing.

***

“Beautiful, is it not?”

Corwyn turned around. She had been sitting on a rock, dangling her feet into the cool waters of the river and admiring the beauty of the forests of Lorien when a voice came up behind her.

She had to look twice upon seeing Lord Celeborn standing there. She quickly scrambled to her feet and gave a curtsy.

Celeborn smiled. “There’s no need for such formality, Corwyn Anelith.”

Corwyn nodded, though she herself thought that there was plenty of reason for formality. But she said nothing, not sure whether to reply or not.

The Lord of the Wood walked over to the riverside and looked out at the drifting waters. “You come here to think, just as I do.”

“Yes, it’s my favorite place to go for some peace and quiet… well, besides Cerin Amroth.” Corwyn answered, watching as a bright silver fish darted this way and that in the current.

“What troubles your mind, dear child?” Celeborn asked. He, of course, knew the answer already, but also knew he could be of no help to Corwyn if the girl would not admit it to herself.

Corwyn looked up, met Celeborn’s eyes, and glanced back at the river. “Mere grains of sand to your eyes, my Lord,” she said. “Nothing that would be of importance to you.”

“Everything that goes on here is of importance to me. Especially when one of my knowledge-keepers, and a teacher, goes off-color for a bit of time.”

“It’s just that…” Corwyn stopped and turned her gaze to the blue sky above, thinking of words to say.

“Yes?” Celeborn asked, probing onwards.

“My Lord, do you love Lady Galadriel?”

As soon as the words left Corwyn’s mouth, she felt stupid for having said them. It had been rude and uncalled for. She put a hand to her mouth and felt color rising to her cheeks. She mumbled an apology.

Celeborn laughed. “There is nothing to be sorry for,” he said, “and the answer to your question is yes. I do love my Lady.”

“But how… how did you know you loved her?” Corwyn asked, turning to face Galadriel. A pained expression was on her face. “How can you tell?”

“Love comes on its own accord, Corwyn. I cannot tell you if you are in love. You must be sure of it yourself.”

Corwyn sighed. “But I’m not sure!” she cried, “I have no idea!”

Celeborn put a hand on Corwyn’s shoulder. “Yes, you do. You have just shown me you do.”

Corwyn looked back at the ground. “It’s of no matter, anyway, my Lord. Love cannot be forged by one heart alone.”

“And sometimes a heart is silenced by doubt.” Celeborn replied. “But that does not mean it would not sing if that doubt were to be taken away.”

“Some hearts don’t know how to carry a tune, doubt or no doubt.” Corwyn muttered, not meaning the Lord to hear.

Celeborn sighed, but smiled slightly. It would be up to Corwyn what to do next, and judging by her face, the Lord did not think the young elf would make the correct decision, not for a bit, anyway.

“I must go then, but do not let yourself be troubled. Love has ways of seeking out those who were truly meant for each other.”

Corwyn nodded, and had turned to say goodbye to the Lord, but discovered that he had already gone. And so Corwyn sat back down on the rock and stared blankly into the water, blinking to stop tears from welling in her eyes.

***

Around early afternoon, Haldir climbed down the tree he was keeping watch in and headed back to Caras Galadhon. As much as he loved the serenity (well, for the most part) of night watches, day watch was also favored because day marchwardens switched off at midday, instead of having to work dawn to dusk. As he walked back through the familiar trees, his thoughts turned to Corwyn.

He wondered if she harbored any feelings for him at all. If she did, she certainly was hiding them. He hadn’t so much as heard a word from her since he had had Orophin drop her off at her telain. In fact, Orophin himself had even stopped joking about the two being a couple. I suppose he’s given up, Haldir thought.

Maybe she doesn’t want to speak to you until you speak to her, the little voice piped, maybe you should try it.

“And maybe she just doesn’t like me,” Haldir muttered in reply, “That seems a bit more realistic.”

With a shake of his head, Haldir headed back to the city.

***

“And how was Haldir of Lorien’s watch?”

Haldir sat down his quiver and bowed. “My Lady.”

Lady Galadriel nodded her head. “I suppose everything went smoothly?”

“Yes, my Lady. No problems to speak of.”

“Wonderful. But that would bring me to asking why, if your watch went well, is your face is clouded with a look of despondency, and why your heart seems so heavy.”

Haldir smiled inwardly. Galadriel had always been able to read him. “It is a dreary matter, my Lady. Though I am sorry if my own problems are troubling you.”

“Haldir, your own problems are the problems of all. When will you realize that?”

Haldir did not reply. Galadriel continued. “If this has anything to do with a certain maiden, then I may be able to offer some advice.”

“You know me too well, my Lady. Please go on,” Haldir said with a wry smile.

“You must remember that things are not always as they appear. All that does glitter is not gold.”

Haldir thought of Corwyn. Was Lady Galadriel saying that Corwyn wasn’t all she appeared? That she was not the one for him? “Do you mean… but, Corwyn is, she has to be,” he interrupted, immediately cursing himself afterwards. One never interrupts the Lady of the Wood.

But Galadriel smiled softly and continued. “You must find the meanings on your own, Haldir. But remember also that love works itself out, if it is true. Be true to thine own self, Haldir, and the one for you will follow.”

How can I be true to myself if I don’t even know who I am? Haldir thought.

Sometimes you just need a mirror to see who you really are, a voice replied quietly, from deep within his mind. He looked up and met Galadriel’s eyes. She smiled. You will find yourself, Haldir, and you will find your partner.

He bowed again. “Thank you, my Lady.”

“No need for that, Haldir. I’m sure you would have discovered everything I have spoken by yourself, in due time.”

Haldir nodded, but he honestly didn’t think so.

***

The night air was cool and dark. She padded softly down the old stone steps, stepping on the faded green and gold leaves that were scattered about, but making no sound at all save for the slight swishing of her glittering dress as she moved about. At the bottom of the steps she stopped for a moment, looking around her. Then, she glided over to a small fountain. Carefully she picked up a large silver pitcher and dunked it in the water. When it was half full, she picked it up and carried it to the center of the small clearing where a basin stood. She lifted the pitcher and poured the water into the basin, listening to the pleasant splashing sound it made against the stone. She watched silently as the water calmed and became flat, motionless. Then she took a step forward and gazed into the basin. The water was deep, dark, and soon the reflections came.

At first it was only a small ripple, but as the woman watched, pictures began to take form on the surface of the water. Her large blue eyes that sparkled with starlight saddened as she watched the pictures.

Yes, she had known it would come in her heart, but seeing it with her eyes made everything worse.

She could see the terror and yet the loyalty, loyalty that made her heart ache. She could see the power and the pull, working against everyone in the small group. She saw the shadow and flame in the darkness, she saw the despair. And then, perhaps even worse, she saw further ahead. The banners, the rain, the thousands upon thousands sent to kill. She saw the orders shouted, the bows drawn back, the arrows flying. Then the explosion, rock falling about everywhere, and the swords brought out. She saw faces full of fear, doubt, anger, misery. She saw the hundreds of her own. Almost two hundred, but how many would return? How many would survive that bloody night? Suddenly, she saw one face. She could see what he could not, the blade headed for him from behind. And she was hopeless to stop it. She saw it all and understood. She understood that when the time came, he was one who would not come back, one of the many who would sacrifice everything for the future of Men.

She closed her eyes from the pictures of death and destruction. That was enough, she had seen enough.

And as the water cleared, she leaned against the basin, clutching it tightly with both hands. Perhaps it would be better if they did not find one another, she thought with a wave of terrible sadness, it might be better all around.

But as she turned away from the basin and replaced the silver pitcher, she thought that the grief might well be the same. And maybe if they did not find each other, it would mean only prolonged misery, prolonged rain, and it was always better to have sun, even if only a flash of it, even if your skin was only touched by the warmth of it for a moment before the rain clouds washed over again. She looked back at the basin as she walked silently back up the stone steps.

Maybe there would be rain, and then maybe there would be some sun. It had not shown her that.

As she reached the base of the Mallorn her home was in, the woman stopped for a moment, flashes of what she had seen flying through her head. For one small moment, her fair face seemed to sag with age, and the weight of her sight. In that moment she realized, sadly, that many good things in life seem to end before they ever have a chance to begin.

It was then that Lady Galadriel, the Queen of Lothlorien, allowed herself to shed one single tear.

***