The bow was still my weakest instrument, but Haldir had promised this would change with enough time and practice.
Unfortunately, time was no indefinite commodity for me. The day was approaching for my ride to Rohan with Gandalf.
Strange as it was to realize, I felt increasingly ill-at-ease about that day's arrival.
Considering that, for a time, I could not wait to escape for Rohan and its people, it was interesting the way my mind had turned. Or was it my heart.
Lorien, with its glowing, gold-leafed trees and its sacred spaces, had become a respite to me. I had never known a place more beautiful, and soon I was to leave it.
Mostly, though, it pained me to think of leaving the elves. Well...one elf, really.
When you spend hours, day upon day with a person, and they come to know your blood, sweat and--though I tried my best not to allow it--tears, when they are the lifeline for your survival, and when they unravel themselves slowly in front of you, it is easy to become attached.
Haldir had not immediately warmed to me, nor was it his nature to do so with anyone, but that had thankfully changed in this case...more than I'd expected. It was fair to say that he even treated me as a friend.
One day, after we'd finished collecting used arrows, most of which were far off my mark,
and knowing that soon I would leave and perhaps never have the chance to truly know of his life, I decided it was time to ask him a rather personal question.
This was something I could not help doing these days. I thought perhaps I shouldn't, lest I make him uncomfortable, but my curiosity about him grew more and more unbearable.
Haldir was so solitary, besides the company of his brothers, and even with them he was rather quiet. They did not speak the common tongue as he did. Conversing with them had been nearly impossible, and I always felt suspicious that they were speaking of me to each other... right in front of my face. It wouldn't have surprised me, as they both carried the same snide-seeming aire that Haldir had possessed when first we met.
Presently, the Marchwarden no longer looked at me as he had before. Now, there was (at times annoyed) fondness in his expression, as one would regard their child, or a young sibling, I supposed.
He and I carried the bows to the base of the trees that supported his fret. I stopped short, as I always did, expecting him to take my armful and proceed up his ladder alone. But this time, he paused at the first rung and looked at me. "Would you like to come up? You have worked very hard today. We might have some Lambas and water."
It was all I could do to stop my eyes widening completely. Haldir was inviting another into his fret. I hardly knew what to say, then recovered my senses enough to agree readily before he had time to change his mind.
He moved aside to let me go first, taking my arrows away. "It will be safer to climb without them," he said. I did not argue, knowing his strength and agility could well handle a tree ladder with an armful of arrows more safely than I ever could.
I ascended, trying to do so gracefully. It helped that I never wore dresses here.
I spent my time training to fight, so there was no point. I wore leather coverings for my legs with the same sort of over-cloak as Haldir. It had become a training garb, of sorts, and I knew fully now why Haldir wore it. It made fighting, and movement in general, much easier.
