A Half Elf's Love

Old Scars and New Wounds

(Elladan POV)

When morning came, I held Delia in my arms. She was absolutely perfect, even asleep, with her hair tousled.

"Elladan..." She opened her eyes slowly, smiling up at me.

"Good morning glaw nín." (my sunshine) She smiled wider, burying her head in my chest. I kissed her head, letting my arms rest comfortably on her waist. I stared at the scars, unsure of what to say. True, Delia still loved me, but I wasn't sure how she felt about my appearance. I looked so different. Damaged.

"What's wrong my love?" I ignored the question, and moved my hands so one could be on Delia's back and the other in her hair. I gazed at my beautiful wife, watching as she tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Elladan, my love, I saw what happened to you. Please, just let me help."

"Nothing. Nothing my love." Delia wrapped her legs around my torso, bringing herself closer. Her hands tracked the scars along my back. I shifted a little, quickly moving her hands away. Looking at Delia, I saw her curiosity. I gave in. I rolled over, letting her stare the scars. Her gasp filled the quiet room. Her fingers traced the scars. Then I felt her lips pressed tenderly along the raised lines. Tears pricked my eyes. I rolled over again, crying as Delia wrapped her arms around me. She ran her fingers through what remained of my hair, kissed my jaw, comforted me as I cried.

"I love you. I love you, Elladan. Forever. No matter what happens, I love you." She held my lips in a gentle kiss, holding me. I dried my tears, hugging her tightly.

"Tell me, how is Elrohir?" She giggled, clutching my hand.

"He is in love with Rúmil." I laughed, absolutely believing it. My brother had always had a soft spot for the elf, and I sometimes saw a look in his eyes whenever we visited Lothlórien. I kissed my beautiful wife again, letting her curl up against my chest once more, with both of us falling asleep. Someone knocked on my door, and after pulling on some fresh clothes I opened it to find Gandalf. I was absolutely confused but hardly questioned what was going on.

"Wake up Elladan. Wake up Deliadis too. We have little time left before war comes to this city." I spent the day with Delia, making sure that the healers would be ready for the fight ahead, since I would not be helping them. I would be fighting alongside my wife. Night fell that day, and sometime close to midnight, a green bolt of light shot up from the Dark Lands. I clutched Delia's hand as we stared, my heart pounding in my chest. The next day was a blur till the beacons were lit. Gondor was calling for aid from Rohan. We were going to get help. The gates opened, and Delia and I rushed towards the gates, watching as Gandalf came rushing in, followed by several soldiers on horseback. It was the Osgiliath group. I could hear Faramir above the crowds, shouting.

"Mithrandir! They broke our defenses. They've taken the bridge and the West bank. Battalions of orcs are crossing the river." I saw Irolas walking across the grounds, shouting in desperation.

"It is as Lord Denethor predicted! Long has he foreseen this doom!" Gandalf shouted back, but I ran over to Faramir, hugging my friend. He suddenly grew distracted by Pippin, and I ran back to find Delia in the chaos. Once I found my wife, I followed Faramir into the throne room. I stood in the back, listening quietly beside my wife and Irolas as Denethor berated Faramir.

"This is how you would serve your city? You would risk its utter ruin?" Faramir tilted his head down, speaking quietly.

"I did what I judged to be right." Denethor looked enraged.

"What you judged to be right? You sent the Ring of Power into Mordor in the hands of a witless halfling. It should have been brought back to the Citadel to be kept safe. Hidden. Dark and deep in the vaults, not to be used. Unless at the uttermost...end of need." Faramir's posture gave off the air that he was hurt.

"I would not use the Ring. Not if Minas Tirith were falling in ruin and I alone could save her."

"Ever you desire to appear lordly and gracious as a king of old. Boromir would have remembered his father's need. He would have brought me a kingly gift." That was a low blow from Denethor. Absolutely unnecessary, given the situation. Irolas almost said something, but I held him back. He did not need to get yelled at too.

"Boromir would not have brought the Ring. He would have stretched out his hand to this thing and taken it. He would've fallen." Denethor jumped to his feet, shouting.

"You know nothing of this matter!" Faramir fired back, his posture growing straighter.

"He would have kept it for his own! And when he returned, you would not have known your son."

"Boromir was loyal to me! Not some wizard's pupil!" Denethor fell after he shouted those words, Faramir began to rush forward, clearly worried. I looked down, pulling Delia close to me. I knew what was going to happen next. Denethor had not been well for several months. He suffered from hallucinations. I listened as the hallucination came and passed. Then the customary words I had grown to know as a healer. "Leave me!" Faramir walked past us, and we all followed after him.

"I desire to be alone." Irolas followed Faramir, not getting the hint, but I held Delia back.

"How do you know Faramir?" I chuckled, kissing Delia's cheek.

"He was the first person I met when I escaped. We appear to be friends now." Delia kissed my cheek, and we walked through the city, waiting for whatever fate awaited us.