To Rescue An Elf
Part 10
Posted: January 18, 2008
Title: To Rescue an Elf
Author: Inwë Sáralondë
Summary: Haldir receives the bad news.
*****
Something was wrong. Haldir could feel it in his heart. He scoured the land, trying to glimpse the small party of elves that were returning that day from the human settlement, anxious to see his little scribe. When he finally espied the group riding towards Lothlórien, his keen eyes immediately searched for the only dark-haired elf in the group, his heart nearly stopping when he saw only three elves, each with silver-blonde hair – and a horse without its rider.
Heedless of anything except for the need to find out where Lothvaen was, he rushed out as the three elves advanced, halting as they saw the Marchwarden. “Where is he?!” Haldir demanded.
Slowly, Rúmil dismounted and approached his brother. “Haldir…”
“Where. Is. He?” Haldir asked again, his voice menacingly quiet.
“We believe he has been taken by slave traders,” Berendirith said bluntly.
Haldir turned slightly to stare at the senior advisor, and then turned back to look at his youngest brother. “How can that be possible?” Haldir whispered, clenching his fist to stop himself from grabbing Rúmil by his tunic. “I entrusted you with his safety.”
Mutely, Rúmil could only look at his brother, not knowing what he could possibly say. He knew he had failed Haldir, failed Lothvaen, and he could not forgive himself for it.
“It seems,” Berendirith continued, breaking the silence, “that Lothvaen slipped outside. The only one of us to see him go was Caegaran, who for reasons of his own decided to do or say nothing.”
The Marchwarden glared at Caegaran. “Is this true?”
Caegaran fidgeted under Haldir’s intense scrutiny. “I only thought he was going out to relieve himself!” he burst out. “How was I supposed to know what was going to happen?”
“Did I not say time and time again that we should remain together?” Berendirith said acidly. “Especially as we had a complete novice with us who knew absolutely nothing about humans except for what he may have been told in stories!”
“What makes you think he was taken?” Haldir asked abruptly, his gaze still focused on Caegaran.
“We searched virtually the whole settlement and asked everyone we met, but no one recalled seeing an elf walking around. The only people who saw him were those inside the inn,” Rúmil responded. “And we were told that a number young and pretty people disappeared from the town in the last year and have never found. They are the sort of people slavers would take.”
Haldir returned his gaze to Rúmil. “If it is true that Lothvaen has been taken by slavers, then he needs to be found, and quickly. The longer we delay, the further away he will be, making it more difficult to find him. I will speak to Lord Celeborn to organise a search party, and I will lead it.”
“Let me join you, tôren,” Rúmil said. “Please. At least allow me to redeem myself by helping you find Lothvaen.”
The Marchwarden stared silently at his brother for a moment, and then nodded. “Walk with me,” he said abruptly.
Leaving his horse with the others, Rúmil followed Haldir until they were out of earshot. “I know this is my fault, Haldir,” Rúmil began.
“No.” Haldir shook his head. “Lothvaen should have at least said something to any of you as to where he was going, though I can no more blame him as I can you. ‘Tis one of his habits, I am afraid, and it is one I have had no reason as yet to chastise him for.” Haldir looked away into the distance before turning to look at Berendirith and Caegaran. “And if Caegaran had said something…” Haldir murmured before his voice died away.
Rúmil laid a conciliatory hand on his brother’s shoulder. “If we leave quickly, then they should still be relatively easy to find,” he said gently.
“Except there are too many who would happily give sanctuary to such kind, especially if there is coin involved.” Haldir’s gaze was sombre. “He is my soul-mate, Rúmil,” he said quietly. “Aye, I know what some are thinking: how can a warrior such as myself have a scribe for a lover, but I knew as soon as I saw him that he was the one destined to make my life complete.”
“Then we will find him, tôren,” Rúmil said with determination. “Let us go and see Lord Celeborn.”
*****
Elvish translations:
tôren – my brother
*****
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