Mimi's Middle-earth Tales // Halbrand, Galadriel, Legolas, Thranduil, and more

6. Perfect Balance of Darkness and Light - Part 5

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That sentence Halbrand says on the raft about a clenched fist around his neck kind of got to me... 

Trigger warning: Choking, panic attack

5. Master

He couldn't breathe. The giant fist mercilessly constricted his throat, blocking all but a mere tendril of air. Allowing him just enough to survive.

"Be still," commanded the deep voice.

Trying to obey, he compelled his limbs to stop flaring. His eyes bulged in their sockets and there was darkness at the edge of his vision.

There was darkness in the face towering above him as well.

"Better," whispered the voice. "You are mine. Never forget that."

Hating himself for his weakness and hating his master for his cruelty he tried to nod, but the grip around his throat was too tight. Tighter than before, gradually stifling even that last, thin lifeline of air.

This was it, the moment he had dreaded and anticipated. The one where his master went too far and killed him.

No! He sat bolt upright on the bed, drawing shallow gulps of air. It had not happened; the torture had always ended with him alive, if barely, leaving enough pain and fear to break his spirit and bend it to his master's will.

The sheets rustled next to him and he cursed inwardly, quickly wiping his eyes from moisture that was certainly not tears, hoping she wouldn't wake up and see him like this.

But of course he was not that lucky.

"Bad dream?" asked Galadriel sleepily.

He lay back down, willing his breathing to calm and his heart to slow its frantic pace. "No." His voice sounded raspy and his tongue was dry as dust.

"It seemed like it."

"I said no." He was becoming annoyed which was good; the irritation helped disperse the image of a cruel face reveling in his misery and the feeling of passing out from lack of air.

Cupping his cheek, Galadriel turned his face towards hers, forcing him to meet her gaze. Then she frowned. "It was a memory."

As usual she had seen the truth in his eyes. He looked away.

"It may help to talk about it," she said kindly.

He didn't reply. As if he would want to bring back those memories again and talk about them? He had buried them centuries ago and did not intend to ever dig them up. The one that had managed to surface tonight would soon be pushed back into his subconscious where it belonged.

"Was it something Adar did?"

"Drop it." He had added a warning edge to his voice.

"I really think–"

Damn elf! She was too stubborn for her own good. Angrily he rolled on top of her, catching her wrists so he could pin her down on the mattress. "I said, drop it," he growled.

~

Galadriel couldn't move. Powerless in Halbrand's grip, she met his stormy eyes. Despite having a human body he was stronger than her and she hated it.

In moments like this he frightened her. There was something untamed in him, a darkness she could not reach.

"Let me go," she commanded.

She was almost surprised when he obeyed, leaning back to rest his weight on one arm. "Then stop prying."

"I cannot."

"You must."

They fell silent.

Why would he not open up to her, even now? She hardly knew anything about his past life, a life that had begun so long before hers. When they first met she had thought him young like a sapling tree but now she knew differently. He was ancient.

I have been awake since before the breaking of the first silence.

He certainly did not look that old. She trailed her eyes over his bare chest, so smooth and unmarred. The only scar was the one from his injury in the Southlands.

But obviously he had another body before. Had Adar killed it? She itched to ask again but for once held her tongue.

Instead she reached out to stroke his cheek. "I pry because I care about you."

He sighed, the last of the anger leaving his features. "I know."

"I love you."

"I love you too." He gave her a light kiss. "Now go back to sleep."

Resignedly Galadriel turned her back, uncertain whether to be angry or sad. Would he ever let her under his skin?

Then she felt him slide close, enveloping her with his body. He stroked her hair softly. "Thank you."

"For what."

"For being there. For making me forget."

"I still think it would be better to talk."

He was silent for a long time, twirling a curl around his finger. Then, right when she was on the edge of sleep, she heard him whisper: "Maybe one day I will."

A/N:

Thanks for the votes and comments on the previous part! :)